A Time for Changeling
by Bloodpage-Alchemist
Summary: Harry's life changed that night when two Dementors showed up in Little Whinging. He sets out to protect himself and find his real cousin that he never knew. In the process he manages to learn more about his world and how to help change it into a better one.
1. Chapter 1

_In European folklore and folk belief, a changeling is the offspring of a fairy, troll, elf or other legendary creature that has been secretly left in exchange for a human child [infant]. The motivation for this conduct stems from the desire to have a human servant, the love of a human child, or from malice.  
_—.org/wiki/Changeling

* * *

He had never been safe in that house.

And now, it seemed, his soul was in just as much danger as his life. The house was bad and the streets seemed to be joining it. Was there no safe haven left? Hogwarts had creatures, forests, and teachers that had been just as dangerous! His street had dementors, and his house... well, he had _finally_ added up all of the clues tonight and he _lived_ on Privet Drive. He knew that nobody else could have known that this house was just as unsafe, of course—he still didn't really want to believe it himself. But it was true and he knew he had to leave immediately, regardless of what Sirius and Arthur Weasley had written to him in their letters or what the Ministry would think.

Dementors, he had read in one of his books, only affected magical beings. If that were true, how had it affected his supposedly Muggle cousin? He doubted that Dudley was magical, so he searched through all his books, his mind working ahead of his hands, and soon, he thought he had come up with the answer.

He had never known his blood cousin.

It was sad that it had taken him this long to figure it out, but now, looking back, Harry had nothing _but_ signs of it. Dudley's voracious appetite, his malicious temper, along with of the other unpleasant things Harry had always associated with the being. Jealousy and making sure nobody knew anything about magic...

_"He has a book about faeries," Dudley said as they entered, Harry's eyes widening in surprise. He had won the spelling contest in school, winning with the word 'ambulance.' His teacher had said it was an advanced word for a second grader and had happily given him the prize, saying to make sure he kept the good work up. _

_"You what?! There's no such thing as magic!" His aunt riffled though his school bag until she grabbed the first place prize ribbon and the small fairy tale book. "Who did you cheat off of?!"_

_"I didn't cheat!" Harry protested. "I won!" He was sent to his cupboard, his aunt ripping the pages from the book and throwing them away, Dudley smirking at him. "Why did you tell her?" Harry demanded, glaring furiously at his cousin from the door to the cupboard._

_"Because everything here is mine." Dudley's voice was menacing, and he suddenly punched Harry in the arm, Harry staring in shock at him--he could've sworn that for a moment Dudley had changed... "Don't think you can have anything here. It's all mine!"_

Harry shut his eyes. The countless plates, the insults and temper tantrums, jealousy over anything involving Harry. Even a letter...

_"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"_

_  
Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon. _

_"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back. He risked a glance at his cousin, who just had a triumphant smirk on his face, and for a moment, Harry swore something about Dudley just changed, as he had thought quite a few times before, but it must have been a trick of the light. He glanced at his uncle, who had earned his attention once more by speaking._

_"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge._

Harry remembered the tons of letters--it was how he learned about the Magical world, after all. But there were so many incidents where he had thought his cousin had transformed, where he had wondered why a boy who had gotten anything and everything he had ever wanted could be so mean and spiteful, why he hated magic so much when he knew nothing about it...

Add that to the fact that the dementors had affected him--and Harry's book had clearly stated that only those with magic in them, even if it was latent like a Squib's, could see and experience the effects of a dementor. Nobody else in the neighborhood except for the three of them had been affected. If that had been a wizarding neighborhood, everyone would have been.

It made sense, in a sickening way, and Harry only wished he had seen all of this before. What was he supposed to do now that he knew that the "Dudley" in Privet Drive was an imposter, fake—a changeling. Why was it even here? He didn't know, but he knew that he couldn't stay there. If his cousin could've been taken, then he could too. And judging from the way his friends were keeping things from him, it was time to return the favor. He had to go, run, like he had planned on doing two summers ago.

Harry James Potter, age fifteen, knew what he had to do. He had to leave, make sure that he couldn't be tracked. For all he knew, the changeling was working with Voldemort.

He looked at his trunk and sighed, thinking. He hadn't read or studied like that in a long time—not since before Hogwarts. He would have to pack lightly and leave. He would lie to his relatives—that wasn't difficult.

Except Dudley wouldn't be fooled. What if he was in league with Voldemort? The perfect spy, especially since Harry knew all too well that the people least expected could prove to be the ones that caused every plan to fall apart. Wormtail's role in his parents' deaths proved that much.

But panicking wouldn't help him in this situation. Harry shut his eyes and thought for a few moments. He had to leave the house, preferably unexpectedly. But the Ministry was able to track him. His letters tonight proved that, and so did the letter three years ago when Dobby had performed the hover charm.

Wait. No. Harry forced himself to remember—a few other students in his year had mentioned that they did magic at home. Hermione had, after all, and yet none of them ever got in trouble. The Ministry could track him, but how? All of his accidental magic before Hogwarts had never earned him a visit or letter, so maybe it was his wand?

He couldn't just get rid of his wand though. Voldemort was out there. So step number one was to get money, enough so that he could travel and not worry about it. He'd have to get wizard money and Muggle money—he still remembered when the Dursleys had left him in King's Cross. He hadn't even been able to buy a juice! He kept a decent amount on him at all times, but he knew that he was going to need more if he was on the run from both the Ministry and Voldemort. Harry knew he'd have to keep on his toes and evade them. One major way to do that was the Muggle world.

Fine. So step one was to get some more money. Then he had to find a spare wand. Harry doubted Ollivander would give him a spare wand though. But he was sure another place would help him—everyone said Knockturn Alley was the place for illegal trade and the like. He was positive there'd be a spare wand there.

Although he could imagine the headline: Harry Potter in Knockturn Alley! Harry repressed a groan. He was famous. The scar, his hair and his eyes would make him stand out. Not to mention his clothes and Hedwig...

He perked up suddenly and ran to his closet. Clothes that Dudley hadn't liked or grown out of were everywhere in it and Harry dug through until he found what he was looking for. A gray newsboy cap—his Aunt Petunia had bought it for Dudley because she thought it was cute, but he hadn't liked it. Harry put it on and looked at his reflection. Part of his scar was still visible. He went back to the closet and grinned, seeing a thin black t-shirt that was too large for him and blended in with his hair. He ripped it and tied it over the scar, making sure that the knot wasn't visible. It'd have to do for now; he could worry more about it later.

But his eyes and glasses, there wasn't much he could do about that really, was there? Harry sighed and wondered. He had seen an eyeglasses shop on Diagon Alley before. Maybe he could pay them a visit or--wait. He had an even better idea. His eyes widened in realization. A Muggle eye place had contacts, colored ones without prescription. Harry had enough Muggle money for that, he was sure of it. That and the hat should cover him if he used an alias, he was sure.

He was about to drift off to sleep when he sat awake again. An alias, but what? And what if the changeling suspected that he knew now? He had to go tonight. Fine. Harry kept the hat and makeshift bandana on and checked his money. He would risk the Knight Bus for now; tell them he wanted to go to London in the morning. He would sleep on there. And from there, he'd pick up the contacts, go to Diagon Alley and decide what to do from there.

But he needed an alias. Something he'd still respond to and be able to write without a problem, but what? His name was Harry James Potter. But Harry was sometimes a nickname though. One of his classmates in primary school had been named Harold but people had called him Harry. And Potter... he had always been behind a girl named Angela Porter in his primary school. Harold Porter--or for short, Harry Porter. It sounded enough like his name that he could use it, because he'd turn if someone used it, and he'd be able to write it without a problem—could just pass it off as sloppy handwriting if he wrote "Potter" instead of "Porter."

Good. Harry made sure he had his money and wand. He looked at Hedwig and asked worriedly, "You'll be able to find me?" At her reassuring hoot, Harry nodded and said, "Okay, but just stay hidden." Another hoot and an affection nip on his fingers when he opened the window, and then she was gone.

Harry watched her for a few seconds before he grabbed his invisibility cloak. He paused, thinking, and sighed. He had been about to just run off with nothing but the money and hat, but he knew that he'd have to keep a clear head and think ahead. He grabbed his backpack and thought for a few moments. The photo album with his parents' pictures, his pocket knife, the Marauder's Map, his sneakoscope... he looked around and smiled, seeing the small wooden flute Hagrid gave him a few years ago. Once that was in the bag, Harry went to his trunk and took out a few books that he thought would be useful--transfiguration, charms, potions... he put a few ingredients in his bag too, deciding to buy a new one or see if a charm could be done to make it larger on the inside. He took another look around the room and made sure his Gringotts key was secure and hidden on its chain around his neck.

Everything finished, Harry crept out of his room--the entire house was silent except for snores. Good. He left 4 Privet Drive, walked a few blocks away to the playground he had been at earlier and lit up his wand to summon the Knight Bus.

A second and a deafening BANG later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt. The Knight Bus had come. The conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."

Harry nodded and said, "I'm going to Muggle London, but I'd prefer to reach it in the morning, if that's all right?"

Stan nodded and said, "That'll be eleven Sickles, but for thirteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

Harry paid fifteen Sickles and was about to enter the bus when Stan said, "Oh wait, woss your name?"

"Harold Porter," Harry said, surprised at how easily the lie came to his lips. "But most people just call me Harry." That, at least, wasn't a lie.

Stan nodded and led the way. Just as Harry remembered, there were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny witch in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Thirty Sickles a pound... outrageous it is..." and rolled over in her sleep.

"You 'ave this one," Stan whispered indicating the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Harry, Ern. "

Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who smiled back, placed his bag under his bed and said, "Well, good night."

"Night," both of them said. Harry, being exhausted at this point, didn't bother to take off his hat or glasses as he finally went to sleep.

It seemed like only a moment later when he was shaken awake by Stan. Harry yawned and looked up at him. "Whereabouts in Muggle London?"

Harry thought a moment and said, "King's Cross." It was a major stop and Harry knew that anywhere he had to travel would be easy to reach from there.

"'Ere you go."

Harry took his bag out from under the bed, nodded to the two of them and said, "Thanks." With that, he stepped off the Knight Bus and smiled--no Cornelius Fudge, no Albus Dumbledore... nobody was around this time. He quickly entered King's Cross station, hoping he could find a map or something similar. He was relatively sure he had enough for a pair of contacts.

He entered the bustling train station, somehow still managing to be awed by so many people coming and going, each of them with their own agendas, their own lives. It was amazing. He found an information desk and shyly walked up to it

"Hello," the man behind the desk said, giving Harry a smile. "Need help with anything?"

"Yes, I'm looking for an eye doctor," Harry admitted, wondering if the man was just going to give him an odd look.

"Oh, it's just around the bend there." The man indicated a corner, "Can't miss it. Anything else?"

"There's one… inside the station?" Harry asked, a bit surprised by that knowledge.

The man chuckled, "Well, you have to remember, this _is_ a rather large station."

"That's true," Harry said, smiling. "Well, thank you." He walked off in the direction the man had pointed at and soon found himself at the optometrist's office. Luckily, it was empty, and a woman behind the counter in a lab coat looked up.

"Hello. Walk-in?"

"Y-Yes, if that's okay," Harry stammered.

"Not a problem. I'm Dr. Lisa Daniels. First thing we're going to do is make a file for you---your parents didn't come?" She looked around, a bit thrown off.

Harry had experience with situations like this, though, growing up, and he knew the best way around it. "My aunt took my cousin somewhere else, said I was old enough to be able to do this on my own."

Lisa made a disapproving face and sighed, "All right. Your name?"

"Harold Porter," Harry said, watching as she wrote it down.

"Date of Birth?"

"July 31st, 1980."

"Do you know your former prescription?" Lisa inquired, peering at his glasses. When Harry shook his head, she said, "Well, when was the last time you had a proper eye exam?"

"I don't remember," Harry admitted. "My aunt brought me a few years ago to a small place in Surrey for these, but I've used the same ones for years."

"I thought as much," Lisa said, looking at the thick frames and Harry looked at his feet, trying hard not to blush. "Well, come on then. Let's get your eyes examined."

Harry was sitting in the chair, and he had been sure the last time he had been to get glasses, it had taken a lot longer than this. "Well, this is easy… and it looks as if it's thinner than the ones you're wearing. I think that your eyes have gotten a little better."

"Really?" Harry perked up, glad for that.

"In fact, I think we may have this one here…" Lisa went to the back and a few moments later came out, "Yes. Okay Harold, now you have a few choices—we have a special deal going on with our glasses, but I think the best for you would be our 2 for 1 offer for £60."

"Oh, well, okay," Harry said, surprised and walking to a shelf. "Are these included?" When she nodded, it took a bit, but he found two frames that were similar and that he liked. "These please."

"Not a problem. Anything else?"

Harry nodded, "I was interested in buying some contacts—colored ones."

"You have lovely eyes," Lisa said quietly, looking at Harry's emerald green eyes, "but if you say so…" She showed him a poster with all of the options, and soon Harry settled for a bright blue color. Lisa smiled at him and after showing the prices, Harry decided to buy the six month supply. He glanced at his Muggle money—he had enough for the glasses and the contacts, with some left over, but he knew that he would have to go to Gringotts soon. "Anything else?"

"I was wondering if you had non-prescription versions of these."

Lisa blinked and shrugged, "Yes. It's not as much though, so you shouldn't have to worry." She smiled at the relief on his face and said, "£20 for the glasses, £15 for contacts."

He had enough. "Okay, those too, please." He really had to watch it now though…

"Okay. It should be two or three hours…" She looked around the shop and back at Harry, "You can come back later, if you want them today, or tomorrow."

"I'll be back later today," Harry said, giving her a smile as he left the shop and looked at the large clock on the wall that displayed the departure and arrival times for the trains. Well, he had quite a bit of time to kill. What next? He didn't have a lot of money…

His hair, of course… Harry mentally whapped himself and walked back to the information desk. The man from earlier was still there, and he gave Harry a smile, "Hey, back again?"

Harry nodded, "Yes. I was wondering if there was a barber shop near here."

"Right across the street from the main entrance—can't miss it." The man pointed once more.

"Thank you," Harry said, going where the man had indicated and he repressed a groan—it wasn't a barber shop! It was a beauty salon! He sighed and mentally decided to just get it over and done with. Besides, they couldn't be any worse than his Aunt Petunia's haircuts. Mentally shuddering, Harry walked across the street, taking off his headband as he did so, and into the salon.

Everyone in the shop looked at him for a second or two before returning to whatever they had been doing previously. Harry was a bit surprised that there were so many people there, but he wisely remained silent.

"Hello there," a woman said, smiling at him from one of the chairs the customers sat in. "Waiting for someone?"

"Er, no… I was wondering if… if I could get a hair cut," Harry managed.

She gave him a smile and said, "Well, sure, a trim is no problem, but you have such nice hair, it'd be a shame to just chop it all off. How about I give you the special treatment for £25?"

The teen repressed a sigh and just shrugged. He could always get it chopped off if he didn't like it.

"Okay, come on then…"

It took some time—the lady washed his hair, trimmed it, put something else in it… Harry made himself sit still as she put the stuff on his eyebrows too.

He didn't know if she was working or just playing with his hair at some points, as she took out the hair dryer and gels and other things. _Finally_, though, she told Harry he was finished. He took a look in the mirror and blinked in surprise.

His hair was golden blond with windswept spikes in the front while the back was more smooth and flakey. He blinked at few times and looked at himself. His hair looked _nothing_ like what he was used to, and he knew his sweatband would cover the scar. "It's great!"

"Was there any doubt?" The woman smiled as Harry paid her the £25 and a little extra for tip, and he left happily, putting on his sweatband outside--it was summer and he was wandering around, so Harry was pretty sure it wasn't drawing attention, but he knew that he was going to need another solution soon. The man behind the desk had known what he was doing when he had sent Harry to the salon after all.

Now a bit hungry, Harry bought lunch and returned to the optometrist's office, reading quietly as he ate his sandwich and drank his juice. He threw away his trash and returned to reading quietly until Lisa was finished. After a few lessons on proper contact lenses care and putting them on, Harry glanced at his reflection.

Wow. He would leave King's Cross Station this afternoon looking nothing like he had this morning. He paid for the pairs of glasses and his contacts and left Lisa's shop, walking through the huge train station before stopping in front of a large map with the Underground stops and some "places of interest."

Harry thought for a few moments as he stared at the map--how would he reach Diagon Alley from here? The Leaky Cauldron was on Charing Cross Road, he knew that much. He looked at the ceiling, thinking a bit, and suddenly perked up, remembering some of the different conversations and remarks people had made the few times he had been on Diagon Alley or in the Leaky Cauldron. There had been mention of a Square before, something with an L… Lei... Harry looked at the map once more and grinned broadly—that was it! Leicester Square was close to the Leaky Cauldron, and there was a stop on the map. He could take the Underground to Leicester Square and walk from there, he was sure of it! He glanced at the clock, surprised that it wasn't too late in the day, and found the train that would stop at Leicester Square.

A short train ride later, Harry got off at the station and looked around, trying to get his bearings, when he heard rather loud arguing coming from a nearby park--a nice park. It had benches and a fountain and a group of people near his age. Harry chuckled; they were the source of the rather loud arguing.

"You _can't_ have a fair game if it's three on two!" A girl shouted

"Well, Cal bailed, what do you want me to do?!" A tall guy snapped back.

Harry could see people giving them strange looks, and he was inclined to as well--they seemed like a gang of sorts, all having the same odd gray fish somewhere on their clothes. Harry was going to walk by when a younger kid in the group noticed him, "Hey!"

Harry looked around and pointed at himself. The kid nodded and said, "You play?"

"Um... er... play _what_ exactly?"

The group gaped at him as if he had two heads and all of them simultaneously exclaimed, "Football!"

"Oh. Um..." Harry looked at them and shook his head, "Sorry. I've got to go--"

"Oh come on, just fill in til Cal gets--that son of a bi--!"

"Nick!" the girl hissed, until she turned. Harry, confused, turned with the rest of the group to see another group there--it seemed as if they had an insect of sorts on their clothes. "Cal... you left us to hang with the _Mantises?"_

"Well, I _did_ move," a boy that reminded Harry instantly of Ron--Cal--said. "It only makes sense. C'mon guys."

"You bast--"

"NICK!"

"But he--ARGH!" The older boy, Nick, glared at the group leaving.

"Have fun practicing for the game this weekend," Cal said as those with him laughed. "Hope your new guy's half as good as me." With that they walked away, leaving Harry confused.

"Huh? New guy?" Harry looked at the group with him and said, "I'm not a fish--"

"Sharks," Nick corrected tiredly. "We're the Sharks. I'm Nick--" which was interrupted by the rest of the group chorusing 'the Brick!' as Nick continued as if they hadn't spoken, "that's Grace," the girl who had yelled at Nick constantly gave Harry a grin while everyone chorused 'Amazing Grace!' and earned a mock-glare from her as Nick continued, "that's Blades, that's Jinx , and that's Harry." He indicated the kid that had beckoned Harry over. "And you are?"

"Harold, but everyone calls me Harry," Harry explained with an amused look.

"Oh, this is going to be weird," the other Harry said.

Nick laughed, "No it's not, Tweak."

"I don't twitch anymore!" the kid exclaimed hotly, making the others laugh. "Anyway... would you mind playing Keeper while we practice? Please?" He asked Harry this, the others all looking at him hopefully.

Harry imagined trying to have Quidditch practice without a Keeper, or missing a player. It wouldn't be as effective, he knew that much, so he nodded, "Just for a little bit, though. I have some errands to run and they're really important."

"An hour, two tops," Nick said, shaking Harry's hand. "Who knows, we might be able to find a way to separate you and Tweak." At the kid's glare, everyone chuckled and Harry took the place between two trees that the group had decided would be the goal. He was on a team with Grace and Blades, both who grinned at him and said to 'make sure they won.'

It was a lot harder than Quidditch--more physical movement--but Harry's Seeker skills and build helped him. He was fast to notice changes in the game, moved fast enough to catch the ball and throw it back in, impressing his teammates and annoying the opposing team. And, to Harry's great surprise, he was not only enjoying himself, but he was _good_ at this.

Eventually, the two hours passed, everyone panting heavily. "C'mon," Nick said, leading the way to a vendor and buying everyone some lemonade. "This is only because we've got someone new that's going to kick arse on Saturday and you guys got lucky and won. Don't get used to this."

Everyone laughed, Harry sipping the lemonade--good, sweet, and cold. Delicious.

Tweak slowly grinned, "I think I know a nickname for him too."

"Oh?"

"Did you see how _fast _he moved?! He was like lightning!"

The others nodded as one, and Jinx said slowly, "Yeah, he does. Lightning..."

"But that's too long," Blades said softly, Harry having a feeling that his control of the situation was long gone.

Grace looked at him and back at Nick, "How about Light instead, then?"

"Is that all right with you?" Nick asked Harry.

"That's fine," Harry said, blinking. This was new--a group of people that didn't know anything about him except the fact that he was decent at something, and accepting him for it. "I'll see you guys later." He realized that surprisingly, he meant it--he really wouldn't mind seeing the Sharks again.

"Later!" The group went back to talking and relaxing, drinking their lemonade and just having fun. Harry wished he was able to stay with them, but he was sure he'd have other chances. That thought cheering him, he finally left the park and, after a few minutes of walking, reached the Leaky Cauldron.

He walked through, tapping the bricks in the back with his wand, and quickly made his way to Gringotts. After a ride to the vault, where Harry grabbed a bunch of money, they returned to the main floor, where Harry got half of what he took converted into Muggle money, surprised at the exchange rate. Apparently, magical money was worth a lot more than Muggle money... he pushed the thought aside and walked through Diagon Alley. No place seemed to sell spare wands, and Harry sighed, knowing he'd have to go to Knockturn Alley after all.

He made his way to the dark, twisting alleyway devoted to the Dark Arts, swallowing hard as he walked through, nervous. Finally, he saw a sign that made him do a double take and mentally sigh. _Caligosto's Wand Shoppe._ Well, he knew that he would probably end up coming to Knockturn Alley.

Better the devil he knew than dealing with a being he knew nothing about. Not for the first time, Harry wondered about what had happened to his real cousin before pushing the thoughts about the changeling and his family away. That wouldn't help him right now. Right now, he had to get another wand. Mentally steeling himself for a scary experience, Harry entered the shop and looked around, a bit surprised.

This place, Caligosto's, was nothing like what Harry was expecting. He was used to Ollivander's--a narrow and shabby little shop lined floor to ceiling with thousands of narrow boxes. This shop looked more like the optometrist place he just left--tidy, with a few wand-making items obvious in the boxes and shelves. It was neat with a few chairs for customers.

"Just a moment!" a voice called from the back. Harry took a seat and a few moments later, an older woman appeared. She reminded him instantly of Mrs. Weasley, except a bit shorter and with more white hair. Harry felt immediately at ease around her. "Hello there, young man." She gave Harry a warm grin and continued, "Do you need your wand repaired?"

"Oh no, ma'am, I need a wand," Harry said.

She clicked her tongue, "Another late bloomer, then? Not a problem. Let's just head to the back room--don't want anyone walking in while we're trying to sync a perfect core for you." She led the way to a room that reminded Harry of the eye exam room, only without the machines, but with posters and pictures of different magical places and explanations of core ingrediants. Harry placed his bag down and looked at the woman, who gave him a smile, "Just a few basic things, okay? Can you stretch out your wand arm, dear? It's usually the hand you write with."

Harry was about to stick up his right arm when he thought of something that would _definitely _make people think he wasn't the same person. He stuck out his left arm instead, mentally vowing to become just as capable with it. He knew that meant a lot of practice, but he was sure he'd find the time to do it.

She measured Harry's arm and made a few "Hmmm" noises, and finally smiled. "Well, you're going to be fun to make. I haven't had a challenge in a good while. Take this." She gave Harry a small little thing that looked like a metal business card. "It'll vibrate when your wand's finished. No need for you to stay here bored. Go finish your shopping."

"T-Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh posh. Call me Gwen." She gave him a smile and walked into another room while Harry saw himself out. He looked around Knockturn Alley and lowered his hat a bit before deciding to look around a bit. He walked around, a bit surprised--it was a lot like Diagon Alley, surprisingly, but unlike Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley was surrounded by buildings, which made the alley a lot darker than Diagon Alley. That might explain the name, though... it sounded like a play on the word "nocturnally." The teen mentally shrugged and looked around and decided to take Gwen's advice and shop.

He bought a new schoolbag--he found one that was advertised as a "high capacity pack, the dream bag that will never fill up, and will stay lightweight: guaranteed! Lifetime warranty included!" That sounded perfect for his needs. He also bought a few magical sweatbands that were far thinner than the t-shirt bandanna around his head and better suited for his needs, since they were designed to let the skin breathe and blend in with the user so that it wouldn't stand out in a game--which mean no worrying about the color, which made Harry very relieved. He put one on immediately and smiled--it really did blend in perfectly. Magic really did have its uses, he knew that much.

Next, Harry bought a few outfits at the second-hand shop--it had a decent selection of Muggle clothes as well as robes that seemed in very good shape. Some of them were in better shape than some of Ron's robes and Harry was pretty sure these prices were cheaper than any of the shops in Diagon Alley. Why didn't the Weasleys shop here instead? He bought a few books as well and placed them into his bag.

Well, his was still wasn't finished, and he had bought his clothes, so Harry decided he would leave wearing one of his new outfits. He told the clerk what he wanted to do, and the shopkeeper was fine with it. Harry entered the fitting room and when he was finished, he stared at himself in the mirror, surprised. Staring back at him was... well, it wasn't Harry Potter, he knew that much.

His reflection was that of a slim young man with bright blue eyes, golden blond hair with windswept spikes in the front where the back was more smooth and flakey, dressed in a black, high-collared shirt, light khaki pants and black sneakers... which was nothing like what Harry Potter looked like.

The salesperson nodded his approval of Harry's new outfit as the teen left the store. Harry smiled, glad about the new things, and jumped, startled, when the card--the one that let him know his wand was finished--activated. Harry quickly returned to Caligosto's.

"Here you are dear," Gwen said when she saw him, taking the metal card from him and gently pushing the box with his wand towards him. "I'll admit, it took a bit, but I managed." She looked around and looked at him, "You seem destined for great things."

Harry stared at her in disbelief--her too? Ollivander had said something similar, and Harry knew just from looking at the new wand that it wasn't his old one. How could both wand makers say the same thing with two completely different things?

She chuckled, "Don't worry. It's just these ingredients... anyway, to let you know, your wand is thirteen inches long, it's made of birch wood and its core is a runespoor's fang." At the look of confusion, Gwen elaborated, "It's rare. I've only seen it with those who deal with Dark Magic--like an Auror. I've never seen it used for evil, just against it."

Harry took his wand from its box and just looked at it for a few seconds. It was sleek, fine-grained, pale in color, and seemed to have an attractive sheen all its own without him even polishing it. He looked at Gwen and said softly, "Thank you."

"Oh posh. You're going to do amazing things, young man, just watch. Anyway, that'll be sixteen galleons--oh, don't forget this either. It comes with the wand." Gwen handed him a wand-polishing kit. "Reminds people to care for it, I think."

Harry paid her without a problem and smiled at the kit, putting it in his bag. He remembered his embarrassment at the Weighing of the Wands last year--he was relieved he wouldn't have to relieve that again. "Thank you. I'll be back for refills."

"Well then, I'll be seeing you, dearie." With that, she returned to the back while Harry left the shop.

He finished up his last bit of shopping, deciding to pick up two more caps he had seen in the shop and blinked as Hedwig flew into the shop and landed on his shoulder. "Oh, that's right... I've got to get rid of my old wand..." He sighed. "Thanks girl." He took his wand from its sheath, looked at it a moment and knew one day he'd take it back. He patted Hedwig gently, and she gave him an affectionate nip on his finger before taking his old holly wand and flying out of the shop. Harry sighed, put his birch wand where his holly wand had been, paid for his two hats and left Knockturn Alley.

He passed through Diagon Alley and paused a moment in the Leaky Cauldron--the Weasleys and Hermione were here awfully early to be shopping for school supplies. He quietly bought a few bottles of pumpkin juice. Harry was thanking Tom as Arthur came up to the counter. Arthur gave Harry a brief glance and turned to the bartender, while Tom wrapped up the pumpkin juice for Harry so that they wouldn't break in his bag

"Tom, I'm sorry to bother you, but has Harry Potter checked in at all?"

The elderly bartender shook his head, "A few Aurors asked earlier. I showed them the guest registry too. I'm sorry Arthur. If he comes by, I'll let you know."

"Thank you." Arthur turned and walked back to his family, Harry sharing a look with Tom and shrugging before putting the bottles in his bag and leaving the Leaky Cauldron, surprised. He had managed to fool the Weasleys? But he hadn't even thought his disguise was much of a difference! Changing his hair and eyes, covering the scar and wearing some new clothes had managed to fool everyone? It was a bit surprising.

He looked around. It was late afternoon, early evening. His shopping hadn't taken long at all.

The teenager sighed. He couldn't stay with his family--not as long as the changeling was there--or his friends--they were busy and in enough danger from Voldemort without adding a changeling to the risks too--but he couldn't just stand around. He was pretty sure he had been running away from the one question he had wanted to ask for some time now: What was going to happen now? Harry wished someone could just tell him that, because nothing else really mattered anymore. He looked wistfully back into the Leaky Cauldron at the Weasleys and Hermione talking. They were lucky. They had the rest of summer to relax, adults to look out for them.

"Ron, Hermione," he said softly, knowing they couldn't hear him, "I wish I were normal like you." With that, Harry turned and walked into Muggle London, not knowing where he was going, but knowing he couldn't stay here.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it_. ~Russel Baker

* * *

With a sigh, Harry sat on a park bench. He was exhausted. Trekking all around London for hours with a backpack, even if it was lighter than it would've been without magic, had taken its toll on him. He had eaten dinner at least, but he still had found no place to sleep.

Muggle hotels would question a teenager there by himself. The Leaky Cauldron, well, Tom wasn't stupid. Someone the same age as Harry Potter reappearing the same day looking for a place to stay? It didn't take much to put two and two together in that case. Sleeping outside? Ha. Maybe if he was older people wouldn't look twice at him, but he still _looked_ young. A few officers had already suggested that he should be home already.

So he was stuck right now. He was tempted to call the Knight Bus, but if he did that every night, it would run through his money quickly and well, again, be suspicious.

_Don't panic._ He forced himself to think. He had to be resourceful, had to think on his feet and, above all, he had to keep himself focused. Problem: he needed a place to stay. He had eliminated the main places already… it had to be in the city, didn't it? He needed a way to get around, and…

Wait. He had wanted to stay in the Muggle world, but what if there was a happy middle ground? He knew where his parents had lived, but he had always heard it had been a little Muggle village. If his parents could get there, they might have Apparated, but he had been a baby. They might have worried about his safety.

But the Weasleys had a lot of children, and they had used the Floo Network. Wouldn't his parents have done the same? He would be able to travel back and forth easily if there was a place connected to the Floo Network in that village. It was a start, anyway. He stood up and decided to go back to the Leaky Cauldron…. No. Tom was still there. Harry almost groaned before he stopped, remembering another stop. Borgin and Burkes were connected to the Floo Network.

He traversed back to the Leaky Cauldron and went through to Diagon Alley. It was odd, seeing the shops darkened, closed for the day, but Harry wasn't going to Diagon Alley. He turned and soon found himself back in Knockturn Alley. A hit wizard that was on duty gave him a brief glance before going back to surveying the area. Harry quietly entered Borgin and Burkes, which was still open.

Mr. Borgin looked up, an eyebrow lifted when he saw a teenager standing alone in the shop. "May I help you, sir?" He asked smoothly, the small quizzical motion of his quirked eyebrow gone. Harry knew that if he had blinked, he would've missed the small motion of surprise.

Harry nodded, "I'd like to use the Floo station, please. And buy some powder, if you have any." He managed to hide his surprise—he had been noticing it throughout the day, but his voice sounded… different. Not bad or deep or anything, just a bit different than the voice he was used to. Harry knew he wasn't sick, and honestly, he wasn't going to complain if he was different than what everyone connected to Harry Potter.

Borgin nodded and swept out a tiny bag, "Good for two trips, five Sickles." He pulled out a slightly larger bag, which was about the size of Harry's hand. "Good for six trips, ten Sickles." He indicated the fireplace.

Harry bought the larger bag and placed it in his pocket. "Godric's Hollow has a Floo station?"

Borgin nodded, "Lets you out at the pub there."

"Thank you." Harry took a handful of the powder from the bag and called, "Godric's Hollow!" as the flames burned a bright green. He stepped in and a few queasy moments later, found himself in a small pub. There was a bartender—a tall, slender man with light brown hair and eyes in a black t-shirt with a black fedora on his head—and someone else there, a little shorter than Harry and a lot shorter than the bartender, but he couldn't make out much about the person.

Well, until she said, extremely loudly to the bartender, "But I want pumpkin juice! How do you not have pumpkin juice?"

The bartender looked at Harry, "May I help you?"

"Don't you ignore me!" the other person said loudly, turning and looking directly at Harry. Oh dear. It was an old lady, her eyes thick with cataracts, her scalp visible through her scant white hair. She stared at Harry, her eyes wide, "GELLERT!"

"What?" Harry asked, confused as he looked at the bartender who shrugged easily.

"Oh, Gellert, you brought me pumpkin juice didn't you? I thought you were out with Albus!"

_Ooookay…_ Harry mentally debated before deciding to give her a bottle of his pumpkin juice. "Um… you can call me Light, but sure—"

"What?" She said loudly.

"My name is Light!"

"What?"

"His name is Light!" The bartender said loudly.

"_What?_"

"MY NAME IS LIGHT!" Harry shouted.

"WHAT?"

"Forget it." Harry took out a bottle of pumpkin juice. "Here!"

"Oh, thank you Gellert!"

"LIGHT!"

The bartender rolled his eyes, "You'll have to pardon her, she's not exactly young."

"Who… is she?" Harry asked, looking at the old woman drinking pumpkin juice.

"Bathilda Bagshot," the bartender said, looking at her a bit sadly. "She's brilliant, but just old. Hard of hearing, her memory's beginning to go."

"Oh." Harry looked at her and back at the bartender in realization, "She's the author of _A History of Magic!_"

"Yeah, that's her." He sighed, "She was a brilliant historian and writer, but people just make fun of her now. No respect for someone as old as her." He gave Harry a smile, "So… Light, eh?"

"It's what people call me," Harry said, smiling back. "My name's really Harold Porter. My family calls me Harry, my friends call me Light."

"I'm Alexander Darrington, but call me Lex, everybody does." The two shook hands.

"So… who is Gellert, anyway?"

"No idea," Lex admitted quietly. "I've heard her say a few names, but never that one. How much for the pumpkin juice anyway?"

"It's fine." Harry looked around, distracting himself. It was a typical pub-tables and chairs, plates, pots and pans behind the counter, the menu near the door. "Do you rent rooms?"

Lex nodded, but before he could continue, Bathilda came over, her cane landing on Harry's foot. He yelped and gave her a _look._ "Are you ready, Gellert?"

_Ready?_ Harry thought, wondering what she meant by that question. Once again, he tried to correct her, saying, "My name is Light."

"Come on then." She took his arm and tugged. Harry looked back at Lex.

"Just come after she's asleep," Lex mouthed. "No charge."

Harry nodded and followed Bathilda out of the pub. Around them were a few shops, a post office and a little church with stained-glass windows. Harry's heart ached. This could have been his home. This was the last place where he had had a family. It was in Godric's Hollow that, but for Voldemort, he would have grown up and spent every school holiday.

He could have invited friends to his house. He might even have had brothers and sisters. It would have been his mother who had made his birthday cakes. The life he had lost had hardly ever seemed so real to him as at this moment, when he knew he could now see the place were it had been taken from him.

Perhaps it was this reason that had him wishing, much like he had when he had first seen Diagon Alley, that he had more than two eyes. He looked around, seeing the war memorial in the middle of the square, but something drew his eyes and he was unable to tear his glance away. Behind the church... there was a cemetery. His parents would be in there, wouldn't they? Part of him wanted to see, to pay his respects, and the other part knew that all of this disguise and work would be useless without some restraint. Later. He could come back after Bathilda went to sleep.

They walked through a front path to a cottage with an overgrown garden. Harry could imagine his aunt declaring a war against it and had to chuckle.

But thinking about his aunt brought his cousin to mind. His _real_ cousin... what had happened to him? Was he lying in an unmarked grave somewhere, without any acknowledgement? The thought made Harry angrier than ever at everything—his parents were dead, his cousin missing, and he had had to live with people who had made his life hell. And then there was now, nobody believing him, dementors after him... had he done something in a previous life to have all of this happen to him? He sighed and tried to keep his mind focused on the present. He could think about what-ifs later.

Bathilda fumbled with a key at the front door and then opened it and entered, Harry behind her. His nose wrinkled his nose when he entered the house-it smelled of old age, of dust, of unwashed clothes and stale food. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the only light came from the moon.

Well... no time like the present. "_Lumos,"_ Harry said, holding his new wand in his left hand. A feeble light that soon grew a little stronger appeared.

"Oh, thank you," Bathilda said, navigating a little easier since she could see, and soon they went into another room; Harry presumed it was the sitting room. Bathilda began to totter around the place lighting candles, but it was still very dark, not to mention extremely dirty. Thick dust crunched beneath their feet, and Harry's nose twitched once more: it smelled like dankness and mildew.

He wondered when was the last time anyone had been inside this house to check whether she was coping. She seemed to have forgotten that she could do magic too, for she lit the candles clumsily by hand, her trailing lace cuff in constant danger of catching fire.

"Let me do that," offered Harry and he took the matches from her.

"Oh, you're such a good nephew. I knew those rumors weren't true," she said, giving Harry a gentle kiss on the cheek as she sat, watching him as he finished lighting the candle stubs that stood on saucers around the room, perched precariously on stack of book and on side tables crammed with cracked and moldy cups.

Nephew? That explained something at least. This Gellert was related to Bathilda—most likely her nephew... well, maybe great-nephew or something, since she wasn't exactly young. Rumors? Harry mentally shrugged and continued hunting for candles.

The last surface on which Harry spotted a candle was a bow-fronted chest of drawers on which there stood a large number of photographs. When the flame danced into life, its reflection wavered on their dusty glass and silver. He saw a few tiny movements from the pictures.

"You can dust them if you'd like," Bathilda said. Harry looked at her, confused. "Oh, they said you didn't like housework, but you're a good boy. It's _tergeo,_ remember?" She smiled at Harry.

Harry shrugged and, as Bathilda fumbled with logs for a fire, he said, "_Tergeo."_ He was pleasantly surprised as all the dust vanished from the photographs... and then he froze, staring at one picture.

Two young men were in this photograph, one looking very much like Harry did now, only he seemed a bit more mischievous, his hair a tiny bit more curly. So this had to be Bathilda's relative, Gellert. The old woman's eyesight wasn't exactly bad, it was just dumb luck that Harry's disguise resembled this boy greatly, especially if he had gotten a haircut recently.

Harry wondered who the other boy in the photograph was. He had auburn hair, blue eyes and glasses and was arm-in-arm with Gellert. For some reason, the auburn-haired teen looked a little familiar, but Harry didn't know why. What happened to these boys in the picture? It was obviously old, judging from how faded it was and the style of clothing. He shrugged and decided to worry about it when he had less pressing matters on his mind.

"Sit down, sit down," Bathilda said something as she waved her hand, and a small tea tray appeared. "All I can really do nowadays... would you mind casting a good scouring charm dear?"

Harry stared at her a bit blankly.

"It's _scourgify."_

Oh. Harry nodded and cast the spell, a bit relieved when he saw some of the room begin to be a bit cleaner. He did this for a bit until the room looked tidy enough. "_Reparo,"_ he pointed to the walls and chairs, and after some time, sat in a now fixed, clean chair. He waited for the flock of owls from the Ministry to come, but none did. Finally, cautiously, Harry drank some of the tea and realized Bathilda was talking.

"-fix the rooms, then the garden, of course, and then we can work on that book and then you can go out and do whatever you like." Bathilda smiled at him, "How does that sound?"

"Um... okay."

"Wonderful! Come on then... up we get. Your room is still there..." She indicated a room down the upstairs hallway and almost fell doing so. Harry helped the old woman to her room, looking around her house and feeling bad. He couldn't leave her alone. She was old and a bit senile, and it was obvious that nobody had really helped her lately. She had written books and everything. The least he could do was try to make her cottage presentable.

Besides, it was a place to stay and he didn't have to worry about payment. Nodding to himself and thankful for the good fortune, he entered the room Bathilda had pointed out. Oh wow, talk about a load of dust. This place made the downstairs look spotless! Harry cast the lighting spell again, coughing, and said, _"Tergeo!_" After quite a few repeats of this, Harry's eyes lit up and he cast a bubble-head charm on himself. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the room. It was definitely a room that was bigger on the inside, Harry knew that much. He could see what looked like a potions set on a desk in one corner of the room, next to a window, and some shelves filled with books opposite of that. The bed was in the middle, next to the wall, and next to Harry was a dresser, a mirror on the wall next to it. He could see a closet next to the potions area, and Harry wondered what sort of person Gellert had been. There was nothing here—no pictures or drawings, no letters from friends. Gellert seemed very neat, that much was obvious...

Harry wandered over to the desk, casting the two cleaning spells he had learned quite a few times before he looked at the books left on the desk. _Moste Potente Potions, Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy,_ _Spellman's Syllabary, _and_ The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Weird. The last one looked like a children's book. But none of the other books in this room, just from gazing at the bookshelf, seemed to be. Harry shrugged and sat in the now clean chair, flipping through the book. There was an odd symbol etched into the page of the first story: A triangle, and in the triangle was a circle, and in the circle, a line. Harry looked at the story's title: _The Tale of the Three Brothers._ Shrugging he began to read the first story, which was interesting, despite the fact that it had been written in a lot.

Huh. It was interesting. The story was about three brothers who, traveling together, reached an impassable river. They make a magical bridge over the river. Halfway across the bridge, they met the personification of Death who was angry for losing three potential victims. He pretended to be impressed by them and granted each a wish as a reward. The eldest brother asked for an unbeatable dueling wand. The middle brother asked for the ability to resurrect the dead. The youngest brother did not trust Death and asked for a way to stop Death from following him. Death reluctantly gave him his cloak of invisibility. Afterwards, the brothers went their separate ways.

The eldest brother, bragging about his powerful wand, was robbed of it and murdered while he was asleep. The middle brother used his ability to bring back the woman he loved who died before he could marry her. However, she was not fully alive and was full of sorrow. He killed himself to join her in death. As for the youngest brother, Death never managed to find him, as he stayed hidden under his cloak. Many years later, the brother removed his cloak and gave it to his son. Pleased with his achievements, he greeted Death as an old friend and chose to leave with him as an equal.

Harry stared at the book for a few moments. Had Voldemort read this story? Was that why he thought he could live forever? And... he took off his pack and took out his invisibility cloak. He glanced at the writing one of the margins of the story.

_Invisibility Cloaks can be created different ways. Some are imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, some carry a Bedazzling Hex, and some are woven from Demiguise hair. Such cloaks fade over the years until they turn opaque and they're rough to the touch. The Hallow would be unlike any of these._

His cloak didn't fit any of those descriptions. Harry read another note in the margin, that had circled a part of the story: "_If this cloak is passed down, Peverell's descendants might still have it."_

The cloak had belonged to Harry's father... Harry stared at it for a long time, disbelieving. Could these Hallows be _real_? He looked back at the other books and flipped open the genealogy book. He found a lot of scribbled notes, with lines and the like added to the ones in the book. What if he found a newer edition of this book? One that he was in, or his parents? Then he could compare it to these families and figure out who was related to him that was from an old family. If Harry had the cloak, then it stood to chance that a very distant relative would have the Stone.

And then Harry would have the ability to see and speak to the dead. His parents, Cedric, all of the people he had seen that night he had dueled Voldemort. Maybe he could even speak to the Peverells or someone that could help him figure out how to get rid of Voldemort for good. And if he could find the wand, that would be even better. Then while Voldemort was distracted by their twin cores or cursing it, Harry would have two other wands to use against him.

Besides, better that he knew where the three items were than Voldemort. Harry shut his eyes, before remembering what he had wanted to do. He had wanted to visit his parents' graves, then he'd go back to the pub.

A shout made him jump, and he ran to the source: Bathilda. "Are you all right?" Harry asked as the old woman grabbed his arm desperately.

"Oh Gellert, you're here," she said, beaming at Harry.

"I'm not..." Harry sighed, "I'm _Light_."

Bathilda just patted him on the head, "I was worried I'd be alone... I don't want to die alone... Thank you for coming back... Lies, you're a good boy..." She soon drifted back to sleep. Harry felt as if someone had just clenched his heart.

_I don't want to die alone_. What had he gotten himself into? He couldn't leave this old lady by herself. What would happen? Could she deal with being alone again?

And then another thought, another question entered his mind: Why _not_ remain here?

He had access to the Floo, if he registered this cottage with the Floo Network. Even if he didn't, he had the pub. He could travel anywhere. He would have a place to stay. He would be able to pay his respects to his parents. And he could learn more about the magical world here, learn more about what happened to the people that changelings took the place of.

Add all of that to his conscience not wanting to leave this old woman alone, and Harry knew what he would do. He quietly removed himself from Bathilda and returned to his room. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Well, Harold Porter," he said to himself softly, "I guess you found a place after all." He smiled at his reflection and, after a shower in the bathroom, laid in the newly cleaned bed. He would be busy these next few days, he knew that much. But he was excited. He had things to do now—he had Bathilda to help, he had told the Sharks he would meet them again, and now he had the Hallows to track. All he was missing was Ron and Hermione.

Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling. He missed his friends, but he couldn't tell them what he was doing. They would be worried. He would use a post owl in a few days to let them and Sirius know he was okay. He could imagine Sirius having a fit. 'Running away when I said to stay put! That's the opposite of staying put!' They'd understand though, Harry knew they would, even though they would be upset at him for not telling them he was leaving. It wasn't as if he had planned it for a long time, though.

Besides, everyone had been keeping him out of the loop all summer. Harry felt a surge of anger at the thought. He'd wait for a bit before telling them he was okay. Let _them _see how it felt to not know anything about what was happening, wonder if he was in danger or not, just as he had worried every day for four weeks. And he had even been right there in the Leaky Cauldron with them for a little bit. If _they_ hadn't realized it was him, then they deserved to be in the dark for a bit.

Harry sat up, removed his contacts and headband, returned his cloak to his bag and drifted to sleep, waking up when he heard the tapping of a cane down the hallway, heard the creak of his door and a relieved sigh, then heard someone moving around in the bathroom. He had been gone from Privet Drive for two nights now, but it really did feel a lot longer. Rubbing his eyes, Harry quickly managed to put on the blue contacts, relieved when he was fully disguised and able to see without blurriness once more. He grabbed his wand from the bed-table and put it in his sheath before he grabbed a clean headband from his bag. After his headband and sheath were firmly in place, Harry left his room. First things first, he knew he had to make breakfast. At least his time with his aunt and uncle had taught him that. He would have a big breakfast so that he'd have enough energy for the day. A shame they had never really let him _have_ a big breakfast, but he wasn't with them anymore.

Harry rummaged around the kitchen for a bit, surprised that Bathilda had an old fashioned icebox, with a huge chunk of ice that Harry presumed had to have a spell on it, since it wasn't melting. Breathing a sigh of relief, since there was food that seemed fresh, Harry cooked both of them breakfast.

"Oh, Gellert, you cooked!"

"My name is Light," Harry said tiredly, knowing already that it was useless to convince her, but he didn't need accusations that he was taking advantage of Bathilda Bagshot's old mind. He served her breakfast, and she happily ate, babbling about various things, especially those vicious rumors about him.

"Okay, Bathilda," Harry said finally. "I'm going to clean myself up a bit before I start working on the front of the house."

"Oh good, that hedge does need tending. I wish we could use severing charms, but there are Muggles." She left, but Harry noticed that she just stopped in the sitting room to look at the portraits for a bit. He joined her for a few seconds. "They look so much better without dust," Bathilda said happily.

"I'll bring a chair so you can relax outside," Harry said, making her peer at him curiously. "That way you can tell me if the hedge looks okay."

She beamed at him and nodded. Harry was relieved—Bathilda, for all her scholarly renown, didn't seem to be someone that argued a lot. Well, unless it was for pumpkin juice apparently. Maybe it was just her age. It didn't really matter though; Harry did as he had said he would. He cleared out a little spot in the front for her and placed the chair there. Then he cleaned up a bit before returning outside, ready to work. He had found the old gardening tools in the back shed, where he had almost fainted at seeing the amount of work needed. Really, Harry had wondered during his miniature hike to the shed if he was in a yard or jungle.

But he had the tools now, and Bathilda had some water, pumpkin juice and tea, so Harry wasn't worried about the heat affecting her as he worked. And work he did. It was almost noon when Harry finally stopped for a break, collapsing next to Bathilda. He had quite a few trash bags stuffed with the parts he had gotten rid of, but it didn't really look like he made a dent at all. Well, until he looked at the other hedge.

"I'm sorry," Bathilda said, shaking her head. "You come to visit and I have you working!"

"It's fine," Harry said easily. "I'll get us some lunch after I clean up."

She beamed at him and Harry sighed as she went inside. People had been walking by all morning, and he could see a few folks peering at him. He had visions of the gossipers on Privet Drive and wondered if it was the same the world over. Mentally shrugging, he went inside and prepared lunch for both of them. Bathilda probably wouldn't have eaten if Harry hadn't been there, but he was ravenous. He returned outside to work while she read a book, looking at him multiple times, as if worried he would vanish every time she looked away.

By the mid-afternoon, one hedge looked decent and Bathilda was telling him to "go and play." Harry, though he was tired, remembered that the Sharks had needed a Keeper the day before. Perhaps they hadn't found one yet, which mean he could hang with them for a bit. So he agreed to Bathilda's 'instructions' and soon found himself back at Knockturn Alley. After a few moments of wandering and asking a few people, Harry discovered another way into the Muggle World that left from Knockturn Alley. Now he wouldn't have to worry about Tom seeing him constantly.

Feeling relieved from his discovery, he soon reached the park where he had seen the Sharks yesterday. He smiled, hearing them before he saw them, and gave a wave at Blades.

"Hey, Light's back!"

As if he had always been there, they welcomed him and quickly put him back as Keeper, playing for much longer this time. Well, his Keeper skills weren't a fluke. The only downside was, since he had spent all morning trimming "Hagrid Hedges" as Harry begun to mentally refer to them, he was _already_ tired and he let a goal get through. His anger at that had fueled him for the rest of the game, and they managed to scrape a win of 2-1. Still though, to Harry, it should have been 2-0. His teammates didn't care though, happy to have won again, a fact both Blades and Grace mocked Nick with. Harry just laughed, unable to help it.

Nick didn't seem to be upset or hold a grudge though, which surprised Harry; most of the people he was used to playing Quidditch with wouldn't take such teasing so easily, even if they were laid back. "All I have to say is the Mantises are going to _wish_ they hadn't bothered us for a game."

"Speaking of," Harry said, deciding to voice his ignorance, "what's with the animals anyway?"

Grace rolled her eyes, "People used to say we were all gang members and no-good anyway. So we figured we'd make fun of them and people basically started gangs named after different things."

"Where we live picked the Sharks," Nick said lightly, with a shrug. "Grace was our friend at school and you're cool. Now those jerks, the Mantises? They think they're better than _everybody_ since they have money."

_MALFOY_. Harry's mind jumped immediately to the sneering blond and he narrowed his eyes, imagining more than just Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle to deal with... and remembered his cousin's "gang."

No... not his cousin. The changeling's gang, the people who had made his childhood hell. Harry looked around at the Sharks with new eyes and found himself impressed—he was positive they could take any of the teenagers the changeling associated with. The idea that he could make friends with people that were not only nicer, but able to probably beat any of the changeling's friend to a pulp made Harry feel a little better.

"But I thought that one of your friends..." Harry said, remembering the boy Cal from yesterday.

Nick narrowed his eyes and Tweak spoke, "His family moved. Apparently the Mantises don't care much about anything except money and location. You need good money to live where they do now."

"And he left you guys because of that?" Harry asked, staring in disbelief at the others. When they nodded, he gritted his teeth. "We're going to destroy them this weekend."

"That's the plan," Grace said, giving him a smile.

They separated in the early evening, Harry making sure to buy a football of his own to practice his footwork. He bought dinner for both himself and Bathilda before going back to the entryway to Knockturn Alley and using the fireplace at Borgin and Burke's to return to Godric's Hollow.

"Hey Light," Lex said as Harry left the fireplace. "Fixing up her place, eh?" Perhaps Harry's surprise showed since the bartender laughed, "Word travels quick here."

"I see," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm not really used to that."

"It's fine. Everyone that knows her is usually busy or treats her like she's slow." Lex shook his head, "She's a nice old lady though."

"Yeah, she is," Harry agreed. He paused and then asked, "Are you related...?"

"Oh no," Lex laughed. "I just really love history. Honestly, I think it's an honor to see her every day. And well, instead of robbing an old lady blind, you're trying to fix her house and help her."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Robbing her had never even occurred to him, let alone anything else bad. "I..."

"It's not a bad thing. Just wish it wasn't so rare." Lex and Harry both turned, seeing Bathilda at the door.

"Oh Gellert, here you are!"

"Light," Harry said tiredly, causing Lex to chuckle. "I got us dinner."

"He's such a good boy," Bathilda told Lex fondly.

"Yeah, he is," Lex agreed, giving Harry a smile. "I've got you a whole liter of pumpkin juice." He produced the bottle and wouldn't allow Harry to pay him.

"I owe you," Harry said to Lex.

"You're already paying me back." Lex indicated the older woman who was arm-in-arm with Harry. "See you tomorrow."

"Later." Harry left with Bathilda, telling her about his friends and explaining what football was to her. She seemed truly interested in the topic, comparing it to Quidditch. They soon reached her cottage, and in the sitting room had dinner. The two read a bit, Harry cleaning the house a bit more, much more grateful for his magic since he knew he couldn't use it outside on the "Hagrid Hedges." Funny. He could use magic finally without the Ministry breathing down his neck, and he was only doing household spells.

Finally, he went to sleep a few hours after Bathilda had. Part of Harry kept expecting the Ministry to send a storm of letters, but he really hadn't received any thing at all for the underaged magic he had been performing. He picked up the stacks upon stacks of old Daily Prophets, narrowing his eyes at some of the commentary.

_Story worthy of Harry Potter... if he has a scar we'll be expected to worship him next..._

Anger coursed through Harry, for a few seconds before it turned to amusement and satisfaction. Right now, he wasn't Harry Potter. He was Harold "Light" Porter, a boy who had no connection to any of this. Well, for now anyway. How long would this last? Harry sighed, wondering about that. He had to pay his respects to his parents before he was found. But he was so tired right now that he really wondered if the bed was literally calling to him. It wouldn't be surprising-he was in a magical home after all. After taking off the headband and his contacts, Harry was soon drifting to sleep, only thinking one thing: this made night number three.

The next morning, after Harry woke up and put on his headband and contacts, he noticed there was more food in the icebox. He smiled and made breakfast and put Bathilda's chair outside. When he came back from cleaning himself up a bit, she was already outside with a book, smiling at him. Harry kept up a pleasant chatter of various historical things with her throughout the morning, realizing that he was actually _enjoying_ learning about history, when someone interrupted.

"Mungo Bonham founded St. Mungo's hospital. Born four years before Shakespeare."

Harry turned to see Lex standing there, "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Think about it, during that time, the Stature of Secrecy wasn't around. That's why things around that time era have so many themes involving magic. The summit that decided to keep the worlds separate was in 1692, Shakespeare probably knew some magical beings, but a lot of things were lost when the worlds separated." Lex sighed and shook his head, helping Harry a bit with the hedge he was still working on.

"Like Muggle chemistry and potions," Bathilda said quietly, making the two turn to her. "A lot of people believe they're related. And they do have a few things in common."

"You know chemistry?" Harry asked, interested.

"Oh no, just really know of it," she said, laughing. "But a few people I knew, they were very interested in learning more about the missing connections between our worlds."

"Anyone in particular?" Lex asked, grunting as he spoke. In a softer voice he muttered, "You did this all day yesterday by _yourself_ and didn't complain?"

Harry just chuckled and nodded as Bathilda said, "Edgar Bones, he used to be interested in it, and so was Fabian Prewett... Marlene McKinnon... oh goodness me, there were so many... Lily Potter... oh I wish my memory was better!"

Harry and Lex shared looks, but Lex spoke first, "You-Know-Who killed them all."

"Yeah," Harry said softly, his mother's name making that clear.

"Makes sense. He'd kill anyone that wants to understand and connect with other beings." Lex shook his head.

"You think all that stuff in the paper is true?" Harry asked quietly. He had thought, from the many articles he took a look at, that people wouldn't believe the truth. Maybe he was wrong... He hoped he was.

"I don't know," Lex muttered. "You-Know-Who being back and nobody except Dumbledore saying it? Everyone jokes that the government's full of idiots, but nobody's _that _stupid. Except... Dumbledore's never begged for attention. Neither has Harry Potter. They both always got it without asking, but never sought it out. So I don't know. I mean, no deaths or anything have happened, right?"

"I guess..." Harry sighed.

Lex looked at him, "You think Dumbledore might be right?"

"I don't know. I mean..." Harry paused and a thought occurred to him, "I mean, a few years ago, the Ministry freaked about Sirius Black escaping."

"People kept thi-" Lex's eyes widened but he finished, "-kept thinking he would make You-Know-Who rise again. That he'd try to kill Harry Potter and bring back You-Know-Who..."

"If the Ministry thought You-Know-Who was a threat because of one prisoner, why not give Dumbledore benefit of the doubt and at least prepare, just in case?" Harry shrugged, "That's my view, anyway."

"Dumbledore's a good boy, like you Gellert," Bathilda said. "He doesn't lie."

"Guess that answers that," Lex said, giving Harry an amused look.

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking at the hedges. Really, he was beginning to question if Hagrid had been here secretly...

Gardening, fixing plants; some things would never change, he supposed. At least Dudley wasn't beating him up as he trimmed-

No. It hadn't been Dudley. Harry wanted to force the thought away, but he couldn't.

What had happened to his cousin?

"...I know You-Know-Who had Death Eaters. Did he have anyone else working for him?" Harry asked quietly.

"He had an army," Bathilda seemed to be a bit alert, a bit lost in memories but in the present. "A huge one, with all sorts of creatures and other beings. But there were so many rumors in those days... you couldn't trust anyone, human or not. Even if they didn't work for him, they could be under the Imperius curse... or a disguise."

The two shared looks and Lex looked back at Bathilda, "Disguises are simple to see past, though. A simple reveal spelland-"

"And only spells get removed," Bathilda said tiredly. "One's magical nature doesn't get revealed with simple spells. The spells that are allowed to determine magical background are illegal unless the Ministry gives someone authorization."

That was a load off Harry's mind-no spell could undo his disguise. It had been one of the smaller nagging worries in the back of his mind. "Magical nature?" Harry asked, keeping his tone light and curious, instead of demanding to know.

Lex answered, "Different beings that aren't human have different magical natures than us. You have the veela, the giants..." He mused for a few moments, "Centaurs have them too. So do werewolves and vampires-it changes when they're changed. Don't ask how it works. And elves. Everything has its own signature, it's own nature, that can't be fooled if the right spells are performed."

"But aren't there some creatures that can blend in perfectly with people?"

"Well, there are Skinwalkers," Lex said, thinking. "But a lot of them here married into other families, and a lot of theories think that metamorphmagi now have a tie somewhere in their lineage to the Skinwalkers... oh! And some types of beings, like changelings. But they're rare, since they have to take over when somebody's a baby, before they really develop a personality that people can compare it to. Skinwalkers, changelings-any mimic has their own nature."

"Metamorph-what?" Harry asked, temporarily distracted from his question.

"A metamorphmagus is someone with the ability to change how they look," Lex answered. "They can make their hair grow or shrink or change colors, eyes change color... they can change how they look without potions or spells. Most wizards and witches need a spell or charm."

Harry thought for a moment, confused. Charms or spells? But he had made his hair grow back before, after that horrible haircut his aunt had given him. Deciding to think about that later, he said, "Oh. But..." He paused. Did he really want to know the answer to his question?

Yes. The truth was better than not knowing and far better than delusions or lies.

"But...?" Bathilda asked.

"What happens to the people they mimic?" Harry asked.

Lex looked at Bathilda, who slowly answered, "It depends, really. In some cases, they're killed. In others, they're kept alive to strengthen a race by being a servant or child. And then there's the other group-sometimes they'd keep someone alive as a hostage just in case the mimic was ever found out. But that's only if the hostage would have some sort of hold over someone important."

"Did that happen before?" Lex asked quietly.

"A few times. Kidnap the children of a prominent couple, or a person that knows a lot... sometimes they would have the children with giants, dementors, veela, there were rumors that even house elves sworn to the person the mimic was close to would keep the children. Really, depending on the resources, it was endless but somewhere that could be an immediate threat."

_An immediate threat..._ Harry felt sick. Voldemort had tried to kill him a few times. He was pretty sure his cousin would rate under 'important.' Dementors? If those foul creatures had managed to shake up even the changeling, what would they do to a normal human? And, well, veelas were okay, but if the things were a threat... Bathilda was right. With Voldemort's resources, his cousin really could be anywhere!

"It's a depressing thought," Lex muttered, shaking his head. "Let's finish tackling these hedges."

"Good idea," Harry agreed, getting back to work.

The next days passed in this manner, Harry thinking of himself more as Light. He _liked_ being Harold Porter, darn it. He was normal, not stuck with people that hated him and not being slandered in the news.

Perhaps it was a bad thing, that he liked his disguise more than his real life, but that didn't matter. Today, he cared about one thing: the game against the Mantises.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Right, since I've gotten various requests and the like asking for a second chapter (where did Harry go, what's happened since and so on), I've extended this fic a bit. Let me know what you think, good or bad, and if you have any more questions. Thank you very much!


	3. Chapter 3

_For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack. ~_Rudyard Kipling

Today was the day. The game with the Mantises, along with some other teams too. All Harry really knew was that it was an inner-school game.

It reminded him of the House teams at Hogwarts for Quidditch. Still though, the idea that this school, St. Martin's Secondary School, would allow for people that didn't attend the school to play for one of their teams, was odd to Harry. Odd, but he was glad for it.

"About time you got here," Nick said as Harry came into the park. "C'mon, school's not too far. Everybody else is there already. We've got to talk to Sharpe."

"Sharpe?" Harry echoed, following Nick. "Who's that? Why do we have to talk to them?"

"She's the one in charge of teams, and we've got to make sure you get a uniform," Nick said easily. "If you don't have a uniform people get stupid."

That was understandable. People could get quite passionate about their teams and sports. Harry followed Nick through the bustle of the city, down the streets and finally they were in front of square building surrounded by high railings. It was a bit run-down, Harry could see that much from the outside, but it was clean and he could hear and see other people running to it. He could see the faces of Grace and the others, but before Harry or Nick could call out, someone spoke with a sneer that made Harry think immediately of Dudley… no, the changeling, and Malfoy… and Snape… and every other jerk bully he had known in his life.

"Wow, look at that. Not enough to be a dog, but to hump the leg of a wizard as well? Pathetic."

Harry stiffened. _Wizard?_ He whirled around and just stared for a few seconds at the group behind him and Nick. The first thing that Harry noticed was the _smell._ The entire group seemed to smell of dirt, sweat, and blood. The one who had spoken was in the front. He had a shaggy appearance, his face covered in matted hair and whiskers. He had pointed brown teeth as well as sores on the corners of his mouth and long, yellowish nails. All of them seemed to be very unkempt and quite disturbing. And from the looks of them, they seemed to be itching for a fight with Nick, who was... growling_?_

"Nick, not here!" Grace was there, as were the rest of the Sharks. Blades had already taken out a knife and was standing a bit behind Nick supportively, a smirk on his face as he took in the other gang.

"Gonna try ta take us on 'ere?" Blades drawled. "We already kick yer arses on a daily basis and we got a wizard too. Think you even gotta shot fleabag?"

Snarls from the other group—now Harry could see the wolf insignia on them, just like the shark insignia was on his friends' clothing. Wolves and Sharks and Mantises… oh my… He pushed the thought from his head. _How did they know he was a wizard?_ Harry didn't know, but since they already knew, he took out his wand and stood on Nick's other side, noticing that Grace was still trying to calm him down. Not for the first time, Harry was struck by how much Nick resembled Lupin...

It clicked then. Nick was a werewolf. But he didn't have a wolf insignia...

Dog, the other teen had called him. Was that an insult among werewolves? It certainly seemed that way from Nick's reaction. But why insult him for hanging with a wizard? Lupin was a werewolf and a wizard...

But... perhaps that wasn't exactly a normal thing among werewolves? Lupin had taught at Hogwarts and had never mentioned a pack or anything. And he didn't look like these werewolves at all. Lupin was like Nick, except Nick was much more broad and muscular, but nothing like these dirty people. Why didn't they keep clean or anything?

"What is going on out here?" The voice reminded Harry instantly of McGonagall and he couldn't resist taking a look. Like his transfiguration teacher, Harry immediately knew that this woman was not someone to cross. She wasn't as tall as McGonagall, but she was nowhere near as short as Flitwick—she seemed of average height, with dark brown hair and eyes that seemed to penetrate all of them. She paused at Harry, "You must be Light. Your friends told me you would be playing today. And _that_ is what you were all getting ready to do, _wasn't_ it?"

Nick growled softly once more, never taking his eyes away from the leader of the Wolves. The teacher followed his gaze and glared, "Fenris Graham! I thought I told you that personal matters aren't dealt with at school. I advise that you either act your age or leave!"

The other boy, Graham, gave Nick a look that obviously stated that their business wasn't finished. "Yeah Smitty, we got it."

"It is _Smith_, Graham. Professor Smith. And if you can't speak properly, perhaps playing isn't an option for you either."

"… C'mon." They shoved past, the Sharks lowering their guard when they were gone.

Professor Smith looked over the Sharks, "Oh John, would you put that away? You're not supposed to have weapons, you know that."

"Habit," Blades said with a shrug and the knife was gone. Not put away quickly or anything, just... gone. Magic. Harry felt a chill go down his spine, but it wasn't one of fear-no, this was one of excitement and surprise. Somehow he had found magical people to be friends with. How? But he had always thought Hogwarts was the only magical school in the United Kingdom.

Obviously he had been wrong.

"… Sorry," Nick said, shaking his head. It seemed to Harry that he was practically coming out of a trance. "I shouldn't let him work me up. Light, this is Professor Smith."

"Are _you_ all right, Nicholas?"

"Yeah," Nick muttered. "I'm fine. Is Professor Sharpe inside?"

"She's been waiting for you. Come along." Smith led the way inside, Harry looking around. It reminded him of all the things he had seen from Stonewall. It was a typical secondary school. Probably hidden like the Leaky Cauldron was, though, since Harry had seen it without a problem and there were obviously other witches and wizards and other beings. Someone that seemed to be part Troll passed by with other people, laughing at something.

Why hadn't he heard of this school before? He had just learned about Beaubaxtons and Durmstrang the year before, but these schools were in the same area as Hogwarts. It was a typical secondary school. How had Hogwarts had his name for so long and yet these people not be in the school?

Harry's thoughts drifted and he blinked. Graham had identified him as a wizard, as if it had been a bad thing. He looked at the Sharks-none of them carried a wand, yet none had seemed surprised he was a wizard. And then the wand shop in Knockturn Alley...

_Another late bloomer._

She hadn't been surprised or thrown off at all at Harry's age or anything. And this was an obviously magical secondary school...

_Where do students that Hogwarts don't take go?_ Harry couldn't stop the thoughts. _What if parents don't want their children to be away all year?_

"Light?" Grace asked, making Harry turn.

Nick gave a grin, "Zoning out on us?"

"Just thinking," Harry admitted.

"I shouldn't have let them get to me," Nick said, giving Harry a look of apology. "Look, if... just finish this game for the group, then you can do whatever, all right?"

"What?" Harry didn't understand the look of pain that seemed to be in Nick's eyes, the concern and plea.

"Nick, stop worrying," Grace said, rolling her eyes. "Light doesn't care. Do you?"

"About...?" Harry asked, not understanding.

"That he's a werewolf."

"Oh, that." Harry waved it off, causing Nick to smile in obvious relief. "No, I'm just wondering how many magical schools actually exist, since I've only ever heard Hogwarts mentioned."

"'Cause influential folks go there, so they can publish more stuff than us," Blades said easily, making them turn. "It's true. My mum went."

"Your mother went to _Hogwarts?" _Jinx asked, looking at Blades with surprise. Harry could see the others were surprised too.

"Yeah," Blades said with a shrug. "Said there's a lot of rivalry an' stuff. Only magic though, nothing else. They don't even do math, just arithmancy. Mum had a hard time adjustin'. Dunno know much 'bout her side of the family, just that she was disowned cause she married Da."

"They teach more than just magic here?" Harry asked, curious. Was that a bad thing, only teaching magic?

"Yeah," Tweak answered him. "Makes sense though. Most of the world now isn't magical. You either stay hidden and stuck, or you adapt."

"The magical world isn't exactly huge," Jinx murmured. "And even though it isn't tiny, even though you can spend all your life in it, why would you want to? People adapt and change things, even if they don't think they will."

"Like the idiots in the Ministry," Grace said, her hands clenched into fists. "Most of them are Traditionalists, but they love the altered cars, love using the ideas Muggles come up with but hate acknowledging them."

Nick just rested a hand on her shoulder, silent.

"Don't like the Ministry?" Harry asked, eager to learn more about his new friends and, it seemed, the magical world that he was a part of and never knew.

"I don't like the idiots in it," Grace answered, the glower on her face showing her dislike. "They're idiots. They think people with the 'Spectrum of Magic' are the best."

Harry wanted to ask more, but heard someone say, "Ah, here are the Sharks! You must be Light." When he looked up, he saw a woman grinning at him, with dark hair and eyes. "I'm Professor Sharpe. Hold on." She said something Harry couldn't make out as she pointed at a vest and put it on him. It had a shark on it and made Harry smile, since it fit him perfectly. "Family business never really leaves." She smiled at the group and looked at the clock, "Oh dear, we'd better hurry up. Come along!"

"Family business?" Harry asked.

"My family, runs a robe shop on Diagon Alley. Good business but I wanted to work with children. I still go over and help out when it's really busy though." Sharpe grinned while Smith chuckled.

"Because certain folks prefer robes over normal clothes and fork over the money for it?"

"I'm not going to complain. It paid for my education."

The two teachers spoke for a bit, but Harry tuned them out, looking at Grace, "Hey, Grace?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you mean with the whole spectrum thing?"

"The Spectrum of Magic?" When Harry nodded, Grace continued, "It's the broad range of magic. A lot of us can't perform in all aspects of it. Traditional schools, like Hogwarts, their students can. You probably could too, but you'd need a tutor since Hogwarts doesn't accept transfers. Or if you're going to go to Durmstrang, you'd still need a tutor, but I know they accept late bloomers."

"Oh." Harry still didn't really understand.

Blades decided to help him, "I can't do much except make things appear and vanish. Grace here would give a phoenix competition when she sings, cause she can really make you feel it. Jinx is awesome with shutting people up... but that's really it. We can't do actual spells and stuff."

"Who cares though?" Harry asked, shocked at learning this. "You still have _some_ magic, right? So what's it matter?"

"The people that make the laws think blood matters, Light," Nick said it tiredly. "What you are and your blood... all of that matters." He shut his eyes, looking very much like Lupin. "Your pack defines you, especially when the Ministry's involved."

"They're not your pack, Nick," Tweak said it softly. "You can't pick a lot of things in life, but you picked to leave them. They're nothing of yours, they're just stalker idiots."

"I wish that was true," Nick said softly, sighing. "But Greyback is the alpha. As long as he's around... we will all be judged."

"... Greyback?" Harry asked quietly.

"He's a beast," Nick said softly. "Infect us young, make us hate people. I thought it was stupid though. It's why I left. Got lucky enough that old Callahan doesn't care about having someone in the flat with him, doesn't mind making the Wolvesbane and doesn't care what anyone is as long as we don't steal his makeup. But enough about that. Game time."

"Who are we playing against?" Blades asked.

Tweak checked the board. "Penguins first."

"Let's go then," Nick said, smirking.

Harry nodded, really wanting to play now. He got his wish, of course, losing himself in the game, jumping and moving fast. They won, 2-0, and watched a few of the other preliminary games.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he looked at the board; they'd be playing the Hawks next. He had been worried they'd be facing off against the Wolves, but they were playing the Mantises first, and the others seemed positive the last game would be them against the Mantises.

They beat the Hawks 3-1, Harry grinning. They watched a few more games and, as his friends had predicted, the Mantises won, but just barely.

The next game was against the Turtles. Despite their name, they were very fast, and it took a lot more work than usual to protect the goal.

Finally, _finally_, the next and final game was the Sharks against the Mantises. Both groups were tired, but Harry was more than ready to take on them. He could see his friends felt the same way. They had a quick break, where they chugged down water and Nick looked around at them.

"Well guys... this is it."

Harry, who was used to the speeches by Oliver Wood, had to repress a laugh. Perhaps it was something all captains did?

"We made it. Time to kick their arses."

Cheers of agreement and Harry couldn't control the laugh in him. That could _not_ be the entire speech.

"Ready?" Nick asked, grinning. When he got the shouts in the affirmative, he just smiled even more and Harry made a note to tell any future Quidditch captains that short speeches really could be rather effective, since he wanted to PLAY!

The game was a blur. The Mantises were good, but it became a bit apparent that Harry was definitely the better Keeper. Perhaps it was the Seeker instincts that allowed him to notice every movement, but despite Cal being a bit bigger and broader, Harry was _fast_. He had good instincts, honed from duels with Dark Lords and tournaments trying to take his life and Quidditch matches. What he lacked in endurance, he was able to make up for because the Sharks were good at keeping the Mantises away from the goal. Harry only wished that he had thought to build up his stamina more at Hogwarts, but it had never been a concern before. He had been working on it this summer, but one summer couldn't catch him up to others that had been doing this for years.

Time, much like Quidditch became a blur of keeping his eye on the ball, of watching what he was doing. When the game was finally over, it was a score of 5-4. They had won.

Harry lost his mind, shouting and cheering, unable to stop laughing when he noticed Blades quickly flipped Cal off. The other team glared, not liking the loss, but the Sharks had won.

Nick pounded his back, causing Harry to remember the nickname 'the Brick.' Getting hit from him really _was_ like getting hit with a brick! "Light, you are awesome."

"Me? Did you _see_ yourself run? Hell, nobody thought you could move that fast!" Harry admitted, remembering how surprised he had been that this wall of a person could move with the speed of what Harry swore was a cheetah.

They all got little trophies, which made Harry want to laugh-that didn't matter to him. Well, in a way it did, but really, beating that team of stuck-up jerks had made the entire thing worth it.

"Hello," a woman said, causing Harry and Nick to turn. Grace was next to the woman. They looked alike, except for the woman was older, but she seemed very pleasant. Oddly enough, she reminded Harry a little bit of Mrs. Weasley. It wasn't because of looks or anything, but she just... did.

"Light, this is my Mum," Grace said, smiling.

"Hello Mrs. Fudge," Nick said politely. Harry forced himself not to stare in utter shock at the name. _FUDGE?_ No way!

"Hello Nick," the woman said, hugging him. "Hello Light, it's nice to meet you. I think all of you should celebrate."

"We can't-" Nick began, the woman waving his protests away.

"I gave Grace some extra money to take you all out for a treat in Diagon Alley. If you don't accept, I'll be very offended." She gave the entire group a _look._

"Yes madam," all of them, including Harry, said meekly.

"Well then, have fun!" With that, Mrs. Fudge turned to talk to someone in the crowd; Harry presumed it was another parent. Fudge wasn't exactly an uncommon name... they probably just shared it with the Prime Minister, because Grace and her mother were _nothing_ like the Minister.

"Diagon Alley it is then," Jinx said, chuckling. "Grace, your mum's awesome."

"I think she just likes rubbing it into my father's face that she has access to the account too," Grace said, obviously amused. "Remember that time she treated the entire school to a pizza party?"

Everyone laughed and began explaining what had happened to Harry; how basically, Grace's mother had decided to send a truckload of pizza to the school. Her husband, needless to say, had NOT been amused. "He likes to imagine he's cooler than he really is," Grace said, rolling her eyes. "He's delusional."

"... Is your father..." Harry couldn't help it. A truckload of pizza wasn't exactly cheap, and for her father to think he's better than he was... "Is he the Prime Minister?"

"Unfortunately," Grace said, sighing. "He used to be really nice when I was younger. But he changed when I got older..."

Harry noticed Nick silently catching his eye and the other boy shook his head. Harry got the message-not a good topic. "Sorry..." He said quietly to Grace.

"It's all right," Grace said, shrugging. "Everyone's family is weird. That's why we've got friends."

"Got that right," Nick said, shaking his head. "Here we are. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour... oh sweet ice cream..."

"And we can even sit outside," Blades murmured, glancing around and indicating the empty seats. They each got different types of cones and went to sit outside, talking about different things like the game they had had today and how close it was to summer ending. It was partway through August already, after all.

Harry was laughing at one of Tweak's stories about his younger siblings when he noticed someone walking around Diagon Alley, looking rather worried and desperate.

Professor Lupin. Quickly turning his attention back to Tweak, he noticed Nick had an odd look on his face and was looking around curiously.

"What's up?" Jinx asked, seeing the odd look. The others were looking at Nick now, who was looking through the crowd, that odd, worried look still on his face.

"I thought..." He shook his head. "I thought there was someone... someone like me around."

Everyone leaned forward and Blades spoke in a low voice, "Here? In Diagon Alley? If they attack you here, that's suicide."

Harry blinked a few times and asked quietly, "You can... tell when other people like you are nearby?"

"I'm not a bloodhound," Nick said softly, "but if someone like me is nearby, we don't smell like normal people. Usually a few meters, give or take, but enough of a warning so that I can be on guard."

Harry risked a glance at Lupin and now he could see the same look Nick had had on his face-Lupin looked a little more worried, if anything. Nick glanced the same way Harry was and raised an eyebrow. "In wizard robes? That's... weird."

"He's looking all around though," Grace said softly. "You don't think he's a loner too, do you?"

"Only one way to find out," Nick said simply. "Stay here. If he's a threat, I'll high tail it right back here alone. If he's not, then all's well." He tossed the last bit of his ice cream cone into his mouth and left the others, going right to Lupin, who blinked for a second and Harry wished he could hear whatever they were saying.

He got his wish, in a way, because a few seconds later, Nick was leading Lupin over. "Did any of you guys see anyone that looked like Harry Potter?" Nick asked.

Everyone shook their heads and Lupin sighed.

"Sorry Remus," Nick muttered, shaking his head. "We'll help you look if you want, but someone that famous would be hard to miss."

Harry managed to hide his surprise at Nick calling his former teacher by first name.

"I thought as much, but thank you for asking. Harry is more clever than people give him credit for though," Lupin said, looking more tired than ever.

"I didn't even know he was missing," Grace said, looking concerned. "If someone that well known can be kidnapped or something, that's a little concerning."

"We'll hunt around for you. It wouldn't be weird for us to hunt around Knockturn Alley, since we're younger and they think we're reckless anyway," Blades said decisively. "That cool guys?"

Everyone nodded, Harry feeling a bit worried. He hadn't thought anyone that didn't know him personally would be worried. But Grace and Nick both seemed oddly disturbed by the absence of someone famous that they didn't know.

They split up in Knockturn Alley, Harry and Nick sticking together. "Why does it matter if he's missing?" Harry inquired, curious.

"It's important because of what he's the symbol _for_," Nick said simply.

"And you trust this guy? This Remus dude?" Harry inquired.

Nick gave him an odd look before chuckling, "He said Harry Potter is part of his pack. That's enough reason for me to believe him. He's a loner, like me. We should be in a proper pack but we left so... he's lost a lot. I guess I can relate a little bit, that's all." Nick suddenly grinned, "Besides, the Potter guy annoys Grace's dad. And that's good enough of a reason for me to help him out."

Harry just laughed, unable to help it. Trust a Shark to, in the end, have their friends as a reason to do anything. Knowing they wouldn't find "Harry Potter," but helping search anyway. After a rather tiring search, they reported back to a rather sad Lupin that they hadn't had any luck.

It was around then they knew they had to get going for the day.

"Say Light? Where _do_ you live?" Grace asked, curious.

"Godric's Hollow," Harry replied, surprised at how easily the words came to him. "With a relative. Want to visit? I've been helping fix up her house and I can use all the help I can get with it."

"Why didn't you say that before?" Nick asked, glancing over. "We would've helped you."

Harry shrugged, unsure about how to answer before saying, "I didn't know you guys knew about magic."

Grace laughed while Nick chuckled, "Good enough. Well, we'll hit you up tomorrow morning to help you. Later."

"Later guys." Harry used the floo station in Knockturn Alley to get back to Godric's Hollow. He greeted Lex and was going to return to Bathilda's house when he realized it was late enough to have few people out, but early enough for a teenager to not be out of place. Nobody was around this area...

He could finally, _finally_, pay his respects to his parents. Deciding to do so quickly before someone could come, Harry went into the little cemetery.

He moved through the rows, feeling as if something heavy were pressing on his chest, a grief that actually weighed on his heart and lungs.

The headstone was made of white marble and this made it easy to read. Harry did not need to kneel or even approach very close to it to make out the words engraved upon it.

_James Potter Lily Potter_  
_Born 27 March 1960 Born 30 January 1960_  
_Died 31 October 1981 Died 31 October 1981_  
_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

Harry read the words slowly, as though he would have only one chance to take in their meaning, and he read the last of them aloud.

"'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'..." A horrible thought came to him, and with it a kind of panic. Wasn't that a Death Eater idea? Why was it here, of all places? He stopped a moment, forcing himself to actually think. Nobody would put a Death Eater ideal on his parents' grave, but some people thought there was life after death, that people lived on...

But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents' moldering remains lay beneath the ground and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, uncomfortably hot in the summer heat, but what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the ground hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the ground with them.

He took deep, sharp gulps of the evening air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something to give to them, and he had not thought of it. He looked around and sighed in relief-a few flowers hung nearby. He grasped these and placed them upon his parents' grave.

As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave. He did not think he could stand another moment there. He turned in silence and walked away, pausing. Had he just seen the name Dumbledore?

Harry stooped down and saw the words Kendra Dumbledore and, a short way below her dates of birth and death, the words: And Her Daughter Ariana.

Harry tilted his head; Ariana had been young, about his age.

There was also a quotation:

_Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also._

The Dumbledore family had lived here too? It seemed that way... and part of it had died here as well.

Harry could not help thinking that he and Dumbledore both had roots in this graveyard, and yet the Headmaster had never thought to share the connection. They could have visited the place together; for a moment Harry imagined coming here with Dumbledore, of what a bond that would been, of how much it would have meant to him. But it seemed that to Dumbledore, the fact that their families lay side by side in the same graveyard had been an unimportant coincidence, irrelevant, perhaps.

He hadn't said anything about this war to Harry. Why then would he ever tell Harry about this? Harry felt sure now that he had done the right thing in living as Light. If everyone was allowed to keep secrets, then he surely had earned the right to do the same.

But it didn't stop the hurt, the ache. This wasn't _fair_. He had done so much and to be left out of _ everything_, to still feel guilty for keeping secrets...

He couldn't force back the tears here any more than he had been able to at his parents' grave, but now he stiffened, hearing footsteps. He stood up from where he had been stooped over to read the names of the Dumbledore family.

A tall, thin man with a great deal of long gray hair and beard stood there. He had very bright blue eyes and wore glasses. He looked grumpy, but through the slight blur from his tears, Harry thought for a brief moment it was the Headmaster... but the Headmaster had never really reminded Harry of a goat before...

No, this man wasn't Dumbledore. Harry could see that now, but the man was staring at Harry, his very blue eyes wide. Harry wiped his tears away and said softly, "I'm sorry." With that he took off running from the cemetery, unable to stay there any longer.

He made his way to Bathilda's house, causing the elderly woman to look at him with concern.

"Is everything all right, Gellert?" She asked.

"I..." Harry thought about how to answer this. "I went to the cemetery... just made me a bit sad." A thought occurred to him, "Bathilda, do you know anything about Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore?"

She gave Harry a grin, "Of course I do!"

"Can you-wait a moment. Have you eaten dinner yet?" At the sheepish look, Harry shook his head. "While I cook, you can tell me about them. Come on." Harry led the way to the kitchen, taking the ingredients out of the icebox, "I've got a few other friends coming tomorrow to help me out with some stuff."

"Oh lovely! Well, where to begin... well, Kendra was a good woman, but very quiet." She continued in this vein for a bit while Harry made a light meal for them both. As she spoke, Harry got the impression that Kendra Dumbledore was a very strict, isolated woman. She had three children: Albus, Aberforth and Ariana.

Albus Dumbledore... Harry couldn't help but wonder about how the Headmaster had grown up. Two younger siblings! A _family!_ What could have happened that his sister died so young, when Dumbledore was hailed as the most powerful wizard of the age?

Then there was Ariana Dumbledore, who Bathilda knew wasn't exactly a Squib, but she didn't really know much about her... just that she adored her brother Aberforth, and it was mutual.

They were eating when Bathilda said something that made Harry raise an eyebrow, "Oh, I almost forgot! That family tree you always nagged me about? Well, I got that nice young man from the pub and we actually managed to complete it for you! And that was no easy feat, so you be sure to thank him!"

"Thank you," Harry said immediately, wondering what she was talking about. "Er... perhaps it's due to the heat, but I've forgotten. What family tree?"

"The Peverell family," Bathilda said simply. "You wanted to know if those Hallows could ever be real, so you thought asking the families would be the best way. It's in your room!"

_Gellert wanted the Hallows._ The books from a few days ago entered Harry's thoughts. He nodded, remembering that children's story. If those hallows _were_ real... better him than Voldemort. They finished dinner and Harry excused himself to go to the pub and thank Lex, as Bathilda had said to do.

He waved off the thanks, "So what exactly _did_ you want it for? I'm just curious."

"Just... well... I think some old artifacts might actually exist."

Lex raised an eyebrow, "The way you worded it, it seems like most would think they don't."

"It's from a children's book..."

Lex blinked a few times before chuckling, "Don't tell me that you think the Deathly Hallows are real." He seemed about to laugh more, but when he saw the lack of amusement on Harry's face, he leaned forward. "Are you serious?"

"All legends, all stories, have a basis in fact, right?" Harry said, looking at Lex seriously.

"A wand more powerful than anything? A stone that raises the dead? The perfect invisibility cloak?" Lex looked skeptical, but Harry could see he was thinking about it.

"I know someone who has an invisibility cloak that's been passed down through his family," Harry said, causing the bartender to blink a few times. "Never updated a charm on it or anything, and it's not like other cloaks. What's that tell you?"

"... It tells me that I think I might want to check out that family tree again with you," Lex said, slowly grinning. "If we find out those Hallows are actually real, do you know what that would do for the history books? We might even be able to finally convince the Ministry to donate funds for a museum or something..."

Harry grinned, unable to help himself. That would be good-they would be protected, people would learn. He wondered briefly why the magical world didn't have museums or anything before saying good night to Lex and going back to Bathilda's house, pausing before he went inside.

He turned and saw the man from the cemetery staring at him from across the road. Harry just nodded to him before going inside. He had to sleep and then... well, and then he was going to be very, very busy. Hallow hunting, fixing up the house and who knew what else would come up?

It was surprising pretty early when the Sharks arrived, Lex with them. They had just finished breakfast when Bathilda happily saw the large number of guests. Harry was a bit relieved-everyone decided to tackle different things. It took them a long time, despite the number of people, but it was a relief when Grace sang a song of such sadness and woe that the plants in the jungle of a yard seemed to fold in on themselves and all they had to do, after Blades had fun with cutting them from the walls, was sweep them up into the multiple bags and bins they had for rubbish. They had taken a break for lunch, and Harry grinned when they were finished.

"Jeez," Tweak said, laughing. "You were going to try and do this by yourself?"

"He got a few hedges done," Lex said, smirking as Harry mock-hit him.

Bathilda had been happily wandering around, talking to everyone about different things with history and the like. Nick, after a quick fire-call, had a few different potions and magical lights that acted basically like Muggle lights, but they didn't rely on electricity. They put a switch in each room and the hallways, and a simple flick of Harry's wand put the actual "light" which was more like a gem than lightbulb, to the middle of the room.

That took a load off his mind. Every time Bathilda turned on the candles, Harry worried there would be no house. His friends gathered up the candles and put them in a cabinet that Lex cast a few fireproofing charms on, while he taught them to Harry.

It was, surprisingly, one of the most fun "chore days" Harry had ever had. Though he had to admit, most of those days he hadn't had a group of friends around.

They were with Lex at the pub when they finished, Bathilda happily drinking some pumpkin juice and everyone else just laughing and talking.

Jinx was talking about the first time she was on a bike, and Harry couldn't stop laughing, due to the way she pitched her voice and acted it out, "I careened down the road at an insane speed and slammed into the tree, at which point I was launched off the bike straight into a stop sign. As I was lying there, bleeding from my face, I decided that bikes were dangerous and had to be avoided at all costs. I don't know how or why my four-year-old mind came to the conclusion that the _bike_ was at fault-" She stopped, everyone did, when they heard the loud cracks that accompanied someone Apparating. But this wasn't just one person.

"Aurors?" Grace said, looking around, confused. "Hit Wizards? What the hell..."

Harry's heart raced. Aurors? Oh no...

Then the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, showed up, some lady in pink and resembling a frog with him. Grace rolled her eyes and her father gave her a _look._

Seeing her, the first words from his mouth were, "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" she retorted, causing them to try and not scoff.

Fudge didn't look amused, and the lady said in a high-pitched annoying voice, "I thought someone of your upbringing would have more respect for her father than that."

"Really, Umbridge, 'cause I thought someone of your background would have enough respect to mind her own bus-" Grace began when her father interrupted.

"I'm looking for a Nicholas Selwyn."

Everyone shared looks, Harry confused. Nick? Why Nick?

Nick looked just as confused, but he said, "That would be me."

"You're Nicholas Selwyn?" Umbridge asked, looking Nick up and down as if he had just said something rude.

"Yes..." Nick looked around, confused. He wasn't the only one.

"Scrimegour, Shacklebolt, test him." Fudge said simply.

"Minister-" Shacklebolt said, looking a bit anxious. "Shouldn't we bring him somewhere else?"

"It's fine," Scrimegour said simply. "I put up a ward."

"Good thinking," Shacklebolt said.

Lex glared at him, but before he could remind them that his property was up-to-code, the two Aurors shouted something that Harry couldn't make out, causing a bright blue light to hit Nick and knock him over.

Before the rest of them could move, wands were trained on them.

Nick stood up slowly, and everyone stared, confused.

He was different. Still broad and tall, but his features and everything... he had fine dark blond hair now, with brilliant blue eyes that reminded Harry of sapphires. There seemed to be small flecks of emerald green in them, but by and large... he reminded Harry a bit of his...

Of his cousin... no, the changeling, but...

"Dear Merlin," one Auror whispered.

Fudge looked very pale, and was breathing heavily, eyes fixated on Nick.

"_What did you do to him?"_ Harry roared, not realizing he had stood up and had his wand pointed at the Minister.

"Sit down boy!" One of the other Aurors shouted.

"Light, chill!" Nick said, eyes wide. "What happened?"

"They changed you!" Tweak said, staring in shock.

"Huh?" Nick asked, looking around. "Why?"

"Oh hell..." Fudge whispered this, looking panicked.

Seeing that no one was going to answer, one of the Aurors, Shacklebolt, said simply, "We had to see if what we heard was true."

"What... what are you talking about?" Nick asked. Harry wanted to know too.

"You're not Nicholas Selwyn," Umbridge said in that annoying voice.

Before Nick could say anything, Fudge said, "Your real name is Dudley Dursley. You're... You're Harry Potter's cousin."

Everyone shared looks, Harry forcing himself not to stare.

No. _No_. What were the odds that the leader of his new group of friends...

_What were the odds..._

Nick was laughing, "Right. I'm sorry, but in case you don't know, he's famous. And wouldn't my name be Potter? Dudley Dursley just sounds like I was named to be a walking bully magnet."

Harry forced himself not to laugh. The irony of that statement...

"Are you calling the Prime Minister a liar, Mr. Dursley?" Umbridge asked, her voice sickeningly annoying.

Nick felt the same way obviously because he said, irked, "Knock it off Dolores or I'll get your cousin on you again."

The threat seemed sufficient because she just glared.

"Dolores, calm down. I understand that it's hard to accept. All of your life, you've been told you were someone and to have this brought up..." Fudge looked a bit nervous.

"This isn't funny," Grace said, glaring at her father. "Where's the proof?"

"Besides his looks?" Her father could see that wasn't enough and he sighed. "This is classified-"

"They're my pack," Nick snarled this, eyes narrowing a bit. "I don't have any secrets from them."

"A changeling took your place," Fudge said quietly. "It worked for Death Eaters and laughed. Told your parents... Potter's relatives... that you were more of a freak than their nephew..."

"He is not a freak," Blades was furious, and he was gripping the table tightly.

"This is some sick joke," Nick said simply, shaking his head, amused. "I don't know what you and your staff is trying to prove, Minister, but it's not funny."

Harry's mind jumped back to a few short weeks ago.

Funny. Fudge didn't seem to like hearing the same words he had said to Dumbledore when they had tried to tell him Voldemort was back.

"This is not a joke," Fudge said, breathing deeply. "You are Dudley Dursley."

"Please stop using that name, it really just sounds horrible." Nick shook his head, "And what's it matter anyway?"

"... Harry Potter is... missing..." Fudge looked anxious as he said this. "The changeling just laughed at us and vanished. You are our only lead to him. Your parents have stated they desire to have nothing more to do with him... and they..." Fudge looked a bit nervous now. "When we found the files that corresponded... when they learned of your... condition..."

"They don't want me." Nick said it simply, shrugging. Harry repressed the urge to find his aunt and uncle and curse them into oblivion. "No big deal. I'm fine where I am."

"Actually-" Umbridge began, but Fudge held up his hand.

"No you aren't," Fudge said simply. "Your... status... would endanger the people you live with."

"They know what I am."

"Not... that status," Fudge said, looking uncomfortable. "Harry Potter is missing. I don't mean he's with his friends. I don't mean we have him. I mean _nobody knows where he is."_

"Not to be mean, but I don't even know the guy. I doubt a famous wizard is going to go out of his way to find his werewolf cousin. No offense, sir, but I've got nothing to offer."

One of the Aurors spoke up again, a pretty cool looking younger one with bright pink hair, "It's the wards, kid."

"I've never been where Potter lives," Nick said, causing Harry to be just as confused. What wards?

"Tonks, that's enough," Shacklebolt said, causing her to sigh.

"What wards?" Tweak asked quietly.

"... There's a saying, that blood will tell," Fudge said it simply. "The wards put that imprint in your minds. Potter's going to be drawn to you. So even if he's disguised or invisible, we'll just have to keep an eye out for him."

_What were the odds?_ Harry knew now: there hadn't been any. It had been rigged from the start. Whoever had his real cousin, once his aunt was out of the picture, had known Harry Potter would be drawn to him through these "wards." But nobody had known Dudley Dursley had been missing...

Well, at least until now. So Harry _had_ been right, there _had_ been a changeling. It was good to know this for a fact, to know that his instincts were accurate.

"And on me," Nick finished, not looking pleased. "You spoke to my guardian about this?"

"That's the other thing..." Fudge looked awkward again. "Since... well... you..."

"He never had custody over Dudley Dursley. Just over Nicholas Selwyn. But since Nicholas Selwyn doesn't exist, you're in the custody of the Ministry." Umbridge looked strangely triumphant.

Harry wanted to hit her in the face. He could see from the looks on his friends' faces that he wasn't the only one.

"You think so?" Nick's voice was soft, low. "I'm a werewolf. You agreed to let us stay with our pack."

"You left your pack!"

"Nicholas Selwyn left the pack," came the retort.

Harry risked a glance at Fudge, who looked as if this were not going the way he wanted. "I-I have people interested in helping you already, Mr. Dursley... very well connected-"

"Save it," Nick said simply. "I'm not going. I already told you what I'm going to do. So can I finish here or do you want to break the law that you signed into effect?"

"You would turn your back on your family?" Fudge said, the pretense of caring and being nice dropping. "You would go back to those savages?" Now the short man just looked angry. "You can actually help serve the Ministry and you would say no?"

Nick glanced at his friends, his eyes meeting Harry's own.

And somehow Harry _knew_ that his new friend had figured it out. He didn't give it away, though; neither of them did. Nick looked back at Fudge, "I don't work for the Ministry. You're the guy who put pressure on people to make Potter look bad. Clean up your own mistakes. C'mon guys."

His friends got up, Fudge attempting to grab his daughter's arm but Grace just sidestepped away and the Sharks left.

"You're not going back, are you?" Blades asked, his voice low.

"... I'm going to challenge Greyback." Nick's voice was just as soft.

"What?" His friends looked horrified, and Harry knew it couldn't be good.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked softly, grabbing Nick's arm tightly.

"... If he's out of the picture... then the pack can only attack whoever the new Alpha tells them to." Nick's voice was soft, low. "Remus told me there are a few other lone wolves. They might come back. The others wouldn't attack anyone I said could come." He lowered his voice even more, so Harry was the only one that could hear, "It'd be a safe haven for you, a place to stay with no worries about masks."

"At the cost of your life?" Harry hissed back. He couldn't let his friend-no, his real cousin, someone he had found without realizing it-take that risk.

"Can't we at least go and give back up?" Blades asked, packing. "You could turn me, my parents wouldn't care-"

"No." Nick shook his head. "Have a little faith, guys. Hell, if my cousin could take on a dark lord when he was a baby, this should be a piece of cake for me." He gave a small smile, "Besides... I've got an ace up my sleeve. Don't worry."

"How long should we wait?" Blades asked quietly.

"It's bound to make the papers when he loses."

"Someone's confident," Jinx said with a small smile, unable to have it reach her eyes.

"If you're worried..." Harry felt unable to finish. "If you don't think can, get out of there. Any one of us would hide you from the wolves and the Ministry. You know that, right?"

"I know." They shared a look. "I'll be fine." He looked around at all of them, "I'll send a letter or fire call or something." With that, he shook their hands, all of them nervous. "C'mon guys, don't you have any faith in me?"

Grace gave a weak smile, "You know we do. Still doesn't help with the worrying."

A chuckle and then he nodded to them, leaving. They watched him walk for a while, still looking even when they couldn't see him.

"He'll be all right," Blades said. "He's got to be okay. It's... hell, nobody can beat Nick one on one."

Harry hoped it was true, but he knew that he had to wait to find out. He couldn't just do that though. He was anxious. He needed to distract himself.

Luckily, though, he did have a cure for that.

"You guys ever heard of the deathly hallows?" When his friends shook their heads, Harry began to lead the way back, explaining what they were and why he felt they existed. But even that couldn't distract them all from wondering if they would see their friend again.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Patience, n. A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue." _~Ambrose Pierce

* * *

It had felt like the longest night, when Nick (or should he call him Dudley?) had left.

That night seemed to last forever. All of them had stayed up very late too before going home. Most, but not all: Blades and Tweak decided to stay over.

Tweak had come up with the idea, after seeing how hard it had been to clean the cottage, of making a bunch of necessary and useful potions for Bathilda to use if they were busy. Harry had immediately seen the logic of this, and so they had begun brewing some basic first aid potions, weeding potions, cleaning potions... just basic things that an elderly witch like Bathilda would make good use of. It was also cheaper to make the potions instead of buying them, and brewing would distract them from the events that had happened earlier.

Unfortunately, exhaustion and potions brewing don't always mix. Harry had been cutting some snails for the weeding potion and had managed to cut his hand rather deeply.

After some yelping, Blades had just grabbed the first thing he could and wrapped Harry's hand in it. Unfortunately, Harry realized as Tweak quickly grabbed some of the healing potions they had made, it was his Invisibility Cloak! Well... he could always clean it later, and it wasn't as if anyone would see the blood when he was wearing the cloak. After the wound had been tended to, Harry surprised that a hand could bleed that much, the three finished the few potions they had and decided that, since they just couldn't get to sleep, maybe less hands-on things could help them pass the time.

This led to various research and just normal talking. Even when the books were put away, the two told stories about their friend, to let Harry see a bit into how they had been friends for a long time. They had gone to school together and when Nick...no, Dudley, had run away, they all lived in the same building.

"It's weird," Blades said thoughtfully as the gray light of dawn invaded through the window. "The magical world to us is tiny, but to a lot of Muggleborns, they say it's larger than they thought."

"That's because when folks are brought in, odds are it's just for school," Harry said, knowing he was one of those in the 'surprised' category. He was still learning so much about the magical world that he wondered if he would ever really think he _knew_ it. "Nobody bothers to explain things that aren't covered in the classes."

"But schools teach Muggle subjects and everything," Tweak said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's only in state schools though," Blades explained. "Schools like Hogwarts have Muggle Studies but they don't have anything that lets people that haven't lived in the magical world all their lives adjust. It's basically a sink or swim situation. It sucks."

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly. Silence between the three for a time as he decided to cook breakfast. Bathilda would be awake soon, after all.

"You took your meds?" Blades asked Tweak.

"I'll fire call for them in a few," Tweak answered, looking exhausted. "Don't tell my folks I was up all night though. They'll lose their minds, tell me I'm being stupid."

"Well, you know you kinda were, but I'll keep shut," Blades replied with a slight smile.

"Meds?" Harry asked.

The other boy nodded, "Yeah. Where did you think my old nickname came from?"

"I never really thought about it," Harry answered truthfully.

"I have some seizure disorder," came the answer. "When I don't take my medicine, I twitch a lot. The doctor said they're smaller seizures and then they build up into a grand mal one."

"And you don't want to see him on the floor spasming and everything," Blades said, wincing. "The few times he did, Nick always handled it..." He trailed off, obviously thinking about his friend. "Til he finally was allowed to take the meds."

"My folks don't like the idea of kids having medications," Tweak said with a shrug. "If my dad had his way, I wouldn't have had them til I was eighteen."

"Jeez," Harry said, shaking his head. His aunt and uncle had hated him even needing glasses. "Go get them from your folks then."

"I'll be right back." He left the room, Blades getting up to help Harry with the cooking. Soon, Bathilda was coming down, looking a bit worried at the three silent teenage boys.

"Good morning," the three said tiredly.

"Were you three up all night?" Bathilda asked, looking at the three of them. Harry wanted to smile; she seemed more and more coherent with every passing day.

Though part of him worried about her becoming _too_ coherent and realizing that he really wasn't Gellert.

And the other part worried about if this Gellert returned home. What would happen to him? If nobody pressed charges or anything, he'd just go to the pub and stay there. Though really, was there any point in worrying?

_Yes there was. The Weasleys, Hermione and Lupin had been looking for Harry Potter. Add that to the Ministry now doing the same and some guy the same age suddenly moving in with a famous author and well, isn't that just too many coincidences?_

"You all right?" Blades murmured quietly.

"Just thinking," Harry answered.

"Hard work, isn't it?" Tweak teased, having obviously just taken his medicine from the face he was making. "Hate the taste of those things..."

"You should take them with water."

"Psh, water, who needs it?"

Bathilda chuckled at the exchange and the day dragged until mid-afternoon when Lex showed up with the others. He seemed rather excited, "You're not going to believe this." It was said quietly, but energetically, to Harry as they walked inside.

"What?" Harry looked between him and Grace; both seemed rather excited.

"I think we found a few of Peverell's living descendents. And you'll love this." Grace managed to rather proud of herself despite the obvious exhaustion on her face, "I didn't exactly sleep, so earlier today I hit up the Ministry-"

"And me," Lex piped in with a yawn, looking just as exhausted as all of them; well, except for Bathilda, of course, since she had slept a bit last night.

"And Lex," Grace amended. "Then we checked out the records." She waved her notebook in the air, "Well, needless to say, after bugging the poor folks on duty before they had their morning tea, we got the families quickly. I think they wanted to shut us up and get us out of there so they could wake up properly."

"Probably." Lex managed to pull off a smirk that seemed to show he was obviously slightly proud of that fact. "That's us, annoying the poor, disgruntled Ministry employees. Anyway, are you lot busy? We need to go to a place called Little Hangleton. It's the last documented place of the Gaunts. They're a double whammy of a family and well, they're quite... interesting."

Jinx shook her head, "Well if that's the case then c'mon and tell us already!"

Everyone agreed to that quickly, including Bathilda, much to Harry's amusement.

"The Gaunts are not only descendants of Peverell," Grace read this aloud from a page of her handwritten notes, "but they're also the last and most pure descendants of Salazar Slytherin."

"Slytherin? That's one of the founders of Hogwarts," Harry said immediately. "He was the one that only wanted pure-blooded students to attend the school."

"Exactly." Lex said, looking rather serious now. "And well-"

"The Heir of Slytherin, supposedly, is You-Know-Who," Bathilda said quietly.

"That's what I was going to say," Lex said, nodding. "But here's the really weird thing. For supposedly being the last and purest of Slytherin's line, this family, the Gaunts? They lived in a Muggle area."

Grace nodded, "There were reports in the Ministry about two guys named Morfin and Marvolo. Apparently both of them died in Azkaban. _But_ there was one person left that wasn't in prison, a woman named Merope Gaunt. So we figured maybe she can help us out if we can find them. Here's the address."

Marvolo? Wasn't Voldemort's middle name Marvolo? Harry was partly suspicious, partly worried, and partly rather excited for a new adventure.

"You didn't get in trouble, Grace?" Tweak asked, raising an eyebrow with obvious concern.

She shrugged, "What could my father do? Lecture me for being rude to that... woman?" She pursed her lips with obvious dislike, "She's all over him, it's so annoying. Like she doesn't grasp the fact that he's married."

"Your father... he's okay with you being friends with..." Harry trailed off, unsure about how to phrase it. He remembered all too clearly Fudge's reaction to Dumbledore mentioning envoys to the giants and his view on 'half-breeds.'

"Hell no," Grace said with a laugh, obviously knowing the question that Harry couldn't get out. "But do you think that the media would let him get away with such obvious bias? Did you ever see the reaction to that article about how the Ministry should be 'stamping out vampires?' There were howlers for _months!_"

"Werewolves still are citizens," Jinx said, seeing Harry's surprise. "As much as some traditionalists don't like them, just as many people, if not more, just view them as people that happen to be sick. Madam Bones is like that, it's why Law Enforcement doesn't go after the ones in school."

"Makes sense," Harry said, nodding slowly. He remembered, rather vaguely, Percy mentioning a Rita Skeeter article about the Ministry wasting time on cauldrons when they should be stamping out vampires, but he had never heard about the aftermath of it. In fact, Bill had cut Percy off when he had begun to go into the code and legislature regarding it.

Maybe Percy had been boring, but he might have had a point. He obviously knew the law... Harry wished that he had spent more time with the 'boring' Weasley. Perhaps he wouldn't feel as idiotic right now. Maybe a letter apologizing for not listening more and asking Percy's input would be useful right now.

Though he did still have to write to Sirius and Hermione and Ron. Harry could imagine how Sirius was acting right now, with everyone apparently looking for him. His godfather was probably worried sick, and there wasn't exactly anything saying where Harry was... or that he was even alive or anything. The fact that the Ministry had found out the changeling probably made his friends and godfather even _more_ worried, especially given the fact his cousin had, to any outsider's point of view, wanted nothing to do with Harry Potter and had left to rejoin the werewolf pack.

Harry knew the truth, but how many others did? Shouldn't he calm the worries he knew they all had to have?

At the same time... he still felt very angry towards all of them. He had done more than Ron or Hermione had in the past few years. Hermione was brilliant, yes, but Harry had been the reason they had even known Voldemort was back! And nobody had wanted to believe it! Fudge had put pressure on people to make Harry look bad, yes, but he had grown a bit in the short amount of time that he had been gone from Privet Drive.

How could the public trust him if those that knew him best didn't?

Why were they allowed to have secrets and keep information quiet, yet the instant he did anything, even in self defense, he was wrong? He was _positive_ they would say that not telling him things was probably "for his own good," but really, how could they know what was for his own good after everything that had happened before?

He pushed aside his frustrations and tuned back into the conversation, hearing Lex mention a town.

"What was it?"

"It's called Little Whinging and like Grace said, it's a Muggle area. So it's just weird that the Gaunts would live there despite obviously caring about blood status."

"Maybe they're broke," Tweak said with a shrug. "Half of us live in council flats, why wouldn't they live in a Muggle place? It's a house that's yours, at least."

"Now you sound like my dad," Jinx said this with a slight roll of her eyes.

"You mean the ever-constant 'how important sound financial decisions are, my dear Mafalda, so invest young?'" Blades teased, obviously mimicking someone. Judging from what they had just said, Harry was pretty sure that the 'someone' was Jinx's father.

"Ugh, shut it," Jinx groaned, rolling her eyes. "I hate my name!"

Harry just chuckled, amused when Grace patted her shoulder, and said with mock-sympathy, "I feel your pain."

"Yeah yeah," Jinx rolled her eyes and then promptly yawned.

"So," Blades said, glancing at everyone, "when are we going to get a move on? We've got a village to visit."

Everyone looked at each other and somehow they quickly reached a general, silent consensus of 'the sooner, the better.'

"I'll summon the Knight Bus," Lex said, thinking. "We can just hunt around from there, though might be best if we don't try to stand out too much. Won't be very successful, since well, small village, folks know everyone. We'll stick out regardless but they'll think we're just passing through or something."

The group nodded, all glancing at Bathilda a bit nervously when she stood up, obviously intending to go.

"Er..." Harry said, looking at her awkwardly.

"Don't 'er' me, Gellert!" Bathilda said, wagging her finger at him. "I want to go too!"

Everyone looked at Harry, obviously waiting for him to decide.

_Did you like being shut in at Privet Drive? Being left out of the loop? 'For your own good' are obviously the four worst words ever. _Harry's insides squirmed at the thoughts. Was he doing what his friends and Sirius had done to him? What Dumbledore had done and was still doing?

He had hated it being done to him. He still didn't like the mere thought of it. And now he was going to do it to someone else?

No.

Harry would not be a hypocrite. Bathilda was an adult, albeit a very old one, but her thoughts were getting clearer every passing day and she knew a lot about history and the like. She could make her own decisions.

"Of course you can come, Bathilda," Harry said, giving her a smile. She was already wearing Muggle clothes (people in Godric's Hollow did have to blend in, after all) and said, "Without you, Lex and Grace we wouldn't even know about this place. Are you ready?"

She nodded and a few moments later, they were all boarding the triple-decker, violently purple Knight Bus. It was quite a wild ride, with three stops before their own, but soon, they were all in the Muggle town of Little Hangleton, standing in front of a pub called "The Hanged Man."

"Oh! A pub!" Bathilda smiled and went inside, leaving the group to share looks.

"We'll stay with her," Jinx said, indicating herself, Tweak and Blades.

Harry chuckled, "Thanks. Just make sure she doesn't ask for pumpkin juice."

Lex nodded, "She can get quite worked up over it." The two shared a grin remembering the first time they had met a few short days ago. Harry felt as if he had known these people for so much longer than just such a short amount of time.

The village was small, and legends from a few decades ago were still whispered about, because they soon had a direction pointing them towards the 'Gaunt Shack.' It really _was_ a dilapidated shack, reminding Harry very much of the Shrieking Shack near Hogwarts, but in even worse condition. It seemed as if nobody had lived there for a very long time, but Grace knocked on the door anyway and tried the knob. It slid open with a loud creak that reminded Harry of the few horror movies he had caught glimpses of.

"Wait a moment," Lex said, tilting his head curiously as he took in the place.

"What is it?" Both Grace and Harry asked.

"These are some rather strong wards. They haven't been updated in maybe forty years or so, but they're very strong. These aren't the usual ones though. In fact, one is hiding magical signatures, but..."

"What do you mean?" Harry didn't know.

"Normally when wizards that own dark objects don't want the Minstry to bother them, they cast some spells so that the signature of magic in an area, like dark magic, can't be seen," Grace explained. "I didn't know there was a ward for it though..."

Lex nodded and continued, "There might be something interesting inside, even though it seems that nobody is living here. I think it'd be best if we were a little cautious."

The other two nodded and looked around the small area. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary besides the dust and normal things associated with a derelict building and Harry was about to say something when he noticed Grace was staring at a panel in the wall strangely. He and Lex shared looks; Grace didn't look like her usual self. She was staring intently at the panel and having a fit.

"Grace?" Harry asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What..."

"I want it," she said simply indicating a... Harry looked at it. It was an odd ring, with a rather large stone in it. In fact, it looked interesting. He had the overwhelming urge to help Grace out and see if the ring might fit...

_Wait._

Harry had felt that sensation before, quite a few times actually. It was a bit like the Imperius Curse. "No!" Harry shouted, just as Grace had opened the panel. He grabbed her arm, causing her to hit him as the ring fell to the floor.

"Let me go! What is with you?" She demanded angrily, hitting Harry repeatedly as she tried to grab for the ring and he stopped her.

"Light?" Lex asked, confused. "What-"

"There's something weird about that ring!" Harry said, and now that he was thinking about it... there _was_ something weird about that ring.

"What ring?" Lex was confused, but took control of the situation by turning Grace to face him. He muttered a spell and looked at Harry, "Compulsion charm." He muttered something Harry didn't hear, but Grace went from having a fit to calming down and looking rather embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she said to Light, shaking her head. "I don't know what..."

"It was weird," Harry said to Lex, shaking his head. He smiled at Grace, "Don't worry about it." He understood; he had felt that overwhelming urge to try on the ring too. It had drawn his attention, had made him want it more than anything else...

"Definitely," Grace said, shaking her head.

Lex, being forewarned, looked at the ring and, like Harry, fought off the effects, though it seemed he had a much more difficult time with it. He had stumbled away from the ring and looked utterly sick and pale when he managed to do so, obviously weaker than he had been before. He gave Harry an odd look, "How did you throw this off so easily?"

"I..." Harry shook his head. He had been trained to throw off the Imperius Curse and that was almost exactly what it had felt like. "I just... I don't know."

"Well, I'm glad for it," Grace said, shrugging. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lex chuckled and murmured, "_Specialis revelio."_ An odd darkness filled the shack and the three backed away from the ring. Harry knew that the spell Lex had used was just for revealing enchantments on an object. So whatever this thing was...

It was as if a dementor was around, the chilling cold and darkness and utter... horror and fear. Harry swallowed hard and almost summoned a patronus when Lex's voice shouted, "_Finite!"_

The darkness stopped and seemed to return to the ring, leaving the three shaken.

"I've never seen anything like that," Grace said, looking shaken. "Never, even when I've visited the law department at the Ministry..."

"I've never seen anything like it either," Harry admitted softly, looking at Lex who just shook his head.

"Whatever that thing is," Lex said quietly, "it's got dark magic written all over it." He looked at the ring a bit closely and sighed sadly, "It's a shame though. This thing is obviously..." He murmured a few spells and wondered why Lex sighed even more sadly, "It's a relic. Belonged to Salazar Slytherin."

"How do you know that?" Grace asked.

"It's got the underside engraved in runes," Lex explained. "As for the relic, that was just a hunch. I saw the runes and did the spell. It's a lot older than Slytherin would have been though..." Lex grinned as he examined the ring closely now, "_And_ this stone wasn't naturally a part of it..."

Harry and Grace both went next to him and Harry could see what Lex was saying now. Grace began to giggle, making Harry look at her, "The stone is older than this and it wasn't made for the ring."

"Exactly."

"And they were Peverells..." Grace let the words trail off because Harry got it now.

"You don't think..." He looked at the stone with much more interest.

"Who knows?" Lex said simply. "But it definitely is around the right age." He made a face and shook his head, "If this _is_ the resurrection stone though... then we can't bring it to the Ministry to cleanse it. They'll keep it."

The three shared looks before Grace snapped her fingers, "Light."

"What?"

"Light didn't get taken in with it by that charm like we would've been. So... if you keep it, we can look up how to find it. Then maybe when Nick comes back, maybe... maybe his cousin, Harry Potter, will tell us about what hallow he has."

"Harry Potter has a hallow?" This was news to Harry!

"The Potters were the next biggest heirs of Peverell that we found," Lex said simply. "The invisibility cloak would be the most likely thing he'd have."

"I found a weird cloak," Harry said thoughtfully, trying to think of a story that wasn't really a lie but not the whole truth. "I thought it was an invisibility cloak, but it was dirty when I found it, like somebody left in a hurry and didn't realize it had fallen out. It was when I got off the Knight Bus in London, and well, Muggles being all around..." Harry shrugged and the other two nodded, seeing the logic.

"Well, he _is_ missing," Grace said it easily. "And he lived with Muggles, right? Him being in the Muggle world would make sense. Especially since the Ministry can't really do anything to him there without the Muggle government saying it's okay."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yeah, they have to work together, but usually it's live and let live," Grace confirmed. "So you found the cloak in London, makes sense if he ran to Diagon Alley grabbed money and kept going. I doubt he's going to draw any attention even if it is his cloak. If it is his, we can tell Nick."

Harry nodded and Lex looked around. "Well, nobody's lived here for a long time." He looked confused though, and explained by saying, "The ring was obviously Slytherin's family... meaning these people had to be descendants of Salazar Slytherin. I understand being poor but..." He trailed off.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "But?"

"... But I thought You-Know-Who was the last of the Slytherin line," Grace said quietly. "My father once said it was a major reason he had followers. He's a pure-blood..."

"But no other magical people lived here and there were no more Gaunts," Lex finished the thoughts for her.

Harry knew the truth though: Voldemort was a half-blood named Tom Marvolo Riddle. "Maybe he's a half-blood and lied?"

Silence for a few seconds at the statement, but Lex said simply, "That would make a lot of sense, actually. Except... it wouldn't explain why he hates Muggleborns and Muggles so much."

"We can muse later," Grace decided. "Right now, we've got a ton of research to do and to tell the others what we found."

The other two nodded and they returned to The Hanged Man, where Bathilda was happily drinking some tea while the others had juice or water. They left and explained what had happened to the others before summoning the Knight Bus.

"Maybe we should take a break tomorrow," Blades suggested quietly, making them all look at him. "We've been working all night and everything. Nick would be upset and you guys know it."

Silence for a bit as everyone slowly nodded. It was true.

"It's summer," Blades said, obviously missing his friend. Harry felt a twinge of envy at the fact that this boy had known _his_ cousin for longer, was close to him... it was foolish to feel that way, he knew it, but he couldn't help it. "We'll probably be stuck working and all of that when we're older."

Jinx made a face and Grace nodded glumly, and Tweak said simply, "So we try to enjoy the time now."

"Yeah," Blades said tiredly. "Tomorrow will just be a hangout day. Maybe swim or something. Does that sound cool?"

Harry blushed and mumbled, "I don't know how to swim..."

"Well, good thing we're around to teach you," Jinx said with a smile.

They separated at the pub, Harry and Bathilda walking home, Harry carrying some pumpkin juice. He wrapped the ring in his cloak and thought for a few seconds.

Two of three. The most powerful wand... he sat at the desk for a few moments, thinking and jotting his thoughts.

_The most powerful wand should be with the most powerful wizard._

_Most powerful wizard in the world?_

Harry thought for a few seconds. He knew the answer to that; he had said it before, to Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets.

_Dumbledore._

So... Dumbledore had the Elder Wand? Logically... it made sense.

_Get wand through duel. Duel Dumbledore, defeat Voldemort (if he's back) and be the future dark lord! I shall reign over all living things!_

Harry laughed at the note, mocking the news even in his personal jottings. How could a source be reliable when they worried about something constantly then lied when it happened? Ron and Hermione would have gotten the joke, he was sure. It reminded him a bit of second year, when everyone thought he had been the heir of Slytherin, and of the year before when only a few people had believed that he hadn't entered the tournament. He could imagine the twins making similar jokes right now. When he saw everyone again, after the initial shouts at him worrying them and various apologies all around, he'd have to show them his notes. If anything, they'd get a laugh and he'd be teased for showing he actually had a brain.

Yawning, Harry put down his quill, turned off his light and went to sleep. That night, the weird dreams of corridors were worse than usual and the next morning brought a twinge of pain to his scar. Harry wanted to complain, but what could he do? Voldemort was back and so his scar would continue to twinge and hurt and he really couldn't do much about it. He got ready for the day and made breakfast for Bathilda and himself, both discussing normal things. Apparently, she was having quite an excellent summer so far, with so many people interested in history and with someone in the house again. Harry could see first-hand that the house looked much improved and Bathilda herself was more lively and seemed less... old.

Perhaps there was some truth in the saying that people were only as old as they felt. Harry let her know that he was going to just hang out with his friends today, and she happily declared that she was going to go for a walk and then work on the garden, amongst other small chores and things.

The day passed quickly, the group having used a portkey that Grace managed to convince her father to authorize to a magical area beach. Harry didn't really like the fact that Fudge was with them, but he spent the day mainly with his wife and puttering over papers. Mrs. Fudge was reading a 'lovely novel!' but she had brought them lunch and everything while they hung out on the beach and played various games and Harry learned the basics of swimming.

The day was very fun, Harry having never been to a beach before. And having friends to spend a normal summer day with... it was strange that normalcy felt so odd to Harry, but it was a good odd. He returned to Bathilda that night and was surprised that Lex had brought dinner for them. It had been a great day, and that night he slept soundly, so exhausted that even the dreams of corridors stayed away.

Early the next afternoon, they were researching courtesy of books everyone managed to find or have suggested to them. They were at St. Martin's, where one of the librarians, Doctor Owens, was far more helpful than Madam Pince had ever been. He _knew_ the library and practically knew every book in it!

"The Studies of Rothugur?" Harry peered at the book that Dr. Owens had suggested for the dark arts aspect.

Owens nodded and said, "Rothugur was a theorist, and he would make sure that he was locked up during all of his research. It's considered a very controversial work, due to the fact that his studies were supposedly the darkest of the dark. It's a shame that he's been all but forgotten by most people today."

"What happened to him?" Tweak asked.

"His studies ended up helping the healing field, as he wanted, but he went mad due to them." Owens sighed and shook his head, "The dark arts have that effect, after all. They're powerful and it was why Rothugur made sure that the guards posted on him would be willing to kill him if he did give into the temptation."

"Soul magic... ancient elements..." Harry was reading through the table of contents, "Possession... Breeding of creatures most foul..." He shivered. This stuff _did_ seem dark. Why wasn't it in the Restricted Section? "You let anybody read this?" He looked at Owens, surprised.

The librarian seemed just as surprised but said simply, "Academic freedom means that I understand the right to search for truth and to publish and teach what one knows to be true. If you restrict things, that means people won't know them and that leads to people doing foolish things. Better that you look for this knowledge while I'm here to help and look out for you instead of me attempting to claim that it's bad and not tell you why."

Harry thought about how tempting the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library was to every student and wondered how different things would be if that knowledge wasn't restricted. But for that to work, they'd need more than one librarian, like St. Martin's had, helpful ones.

Out of them all, Harry had left with the most books on the dark arts. He had the ring, after all, and he wanted to be sure of what he was dealing with! Dr. Owens had given him his firecall address, stating that if he needed help to not hesitate, that some of the books might have enchantments that he hadn't removed. Others might just react due to a different environment. Harry was instructed in that case to shut the book and leave with his family and call Dr. Owen.

Glad that he had someone to call if something bad happened due to the dark arts books being in his room, Harry assured the man that he would do so and probably return the books in a day or two. The librarian just laughed and reminded Harry that he had two weeks with the books and re-checking them out wouldn't be an issue. It made Harry rather curious about the differences in librarians. Why wasn't Madam Pince like this?

He stayed up late after dinner that night, reading a lot and thinking he might have found a lead in Rothugur's book, something about soul fragments and living for as long as the fragment did, but Harry was too tired to read more. He slept and the next afternoon, his friends dragged him out. They went to the movies and hung out for a bit before deciding to play football.

It was the same place where they had all met, Harry noticed, and soon, they realized there was a slight problem. The same problem, in fact, that had caused Tweak to call for Harry.

They had an uneven number of players!

"Not this _again_," Blades groaned, sighing.

"Well, I can sit this one out," Harry suggested.

"Oh no you don't, you're our Keeper!" Grace said quickly. They were debating about how this was going to work when a voice spoke loudly over all of them.

"Or we could just start playing now."

Wait.

They knew that voice. It had only been about two days though it had felt much longer.

As one, everyone turned.

There stood Nick... no, Dudley, he was Harry's cousin after all. He was more scarred than Harry recalled, and seemed as if he hadn't eaten since he had left them... but there he was. Solid and real, impossibly real.

As one, they tackled him, knocking him to the ground as they shouted and demanded that he tell them _everything._

"If you guys will let me up," he managed to groan, "I'll try to do just that. C'mon, lets get somewhere a little more quiet..."

The group left the park as one, following Nick... er, Dudley... to a rather run-down building. Harry's cousin smiled and laid a hand on the door, saying almost tenderly, "It's good to be home."

"Callahan's been worried sick," Blades said, and Harry vaguely recalled the name being mentioned.

"Hopefully he won't mind the big favor I'm going to ask him for... he's going to be brewing a lot more than he's used to..." They continued until they reached a door, and soon, they were inside a small, sparsely furnished council flat.

Harry looked around. It wasn't huge and there wasn't a lot but... it was comfortable. Was this where his cousin lived? He didn't have time to contemplate as someone ran and seemed to tackle Nick (why couldn't he remember his cousin's name half the time? He was Dudley!) and hug him tightly.

It was hard to determine what to notice first the fact that the person hugging _Dudley_ had a purse slung over his shoulders, the long wavy brown hair or the very loud shout of, "You're okay!"

"Yeah, I'm okay-"

"You haven't eaten and your clothes are a mess, oh you poor child!" Another tight smothering hug and Harry couldn't help but smile. He noticed everyone else was as well and decided to not comment on the strangeness of this Callahan, who was currently marching them back to get them something to eat. It was he who asked the question Harry had on his mind, though, which was, "My dear Spot, you haven't answered the question I asked before, which was what name do you want me to use?"

"Anything but Spot," Harry's cousin groaned. Noticing the giggles and Harry's confusion, he said, "Some sci-fi show that he watches, the cat's name is Spot. He thinks it's funny."

"Of course it is," Callahan ruffled the blond hair, "Wolf, cat, all the same."

"I worry for the future of biology," came the dry but amused retort. Harry realized that it must be an old joke between the two. Obviously they weren't well off and the man probably didn't fit any standard of normal, but he had taken in Harry's family and it was easy to see that Callahan cared.

Harry wondered, for a brief moment, why his family hadn't cared about him... but then again, they hadn't wanted their real son back. So much anger at magic... why did the Dursleys hate it so much?

"I don't know what I'd like to be called... I mean, I'm so used to being called Nick, but... I guess it'd be smart to get used to my real name. Dudley... ugh." He made a face. "I guess something like D would work, maybe."

"It's hard to think of you with another name," Blades said, thinking. "We can't even say Nick the Brick anymore, Dudley the Brick doesn't rhyme." He gave a grin, "You have to tell me how Graham's face looked when you showed up."

"He looked like he had his tail between his legs." It was said with a grin and smirk, before he sighed and continued tiredly, "It was... just as bad as when I left..."

"Oh child, that can wait," Callahan said softly, reminding Harry very much of Sirius with the gripping of Dudley's shoulder and the concern. "Eat a bit, rest a little, please. Your friends will understand."

Dudley looked around and everyone nodded, "Take a nap, dude," Tweak said, grinning. "You've earned it."

"Wake me up in two hours if I'm still out?" Dudley asked Callahan softly, almost imploringly.

Callahan made a face of distaste, obviously not liking it being such a short amount of time, and said, "I'll say four but I know you won't like it. Three hours."

"... All right." Dudley smiled and, after quickly polishing off the beef stew that had been placed in front of him, he went to his room. His snores filled the small flat, but Harry could see Callahan looking worriedly into Dudley's bedroom before sighing in relief.

"I know you lot must be curious," he said simply, but Jinx shook her head.

"You're right, sir. Nick... Dudley... his health comes before our curiosity. We were all just really worried about him."

"He'll probably be challenged quite a bit due to being so young," Callahan said, sighing. "But he was obviously successful, though I'm sure there are injuries he won't mention, most likely on his back and thighs. I'll go make some salves and potions... you kids just help yourselves, and don't mind the vapors or anything, okay?"

"Sure," the group said, watching as he left. Harry saw Blades go to a small closet and take out a few games, which they played quietly until a few hours later, when Callahan went into Dudley's room with various vials and after what sounded like whimpering, growling and one complaint of 'Ouch! No, not the icky orange one!' and a retort of, 'Stop being such a baby and drink your potion!' Dudley left his room in a different outfit and looked, in Harry's opinion, much better than he had when he had gone in.

After a few moments of Callahan bustling and giving everyone some warm tea, Dudley sighed and said, "I don't even know where to begin... I came back here first and then I found the Pack. It's not hard even though they move a lot. Took a few hours, not even." He sipped at the tea and said simply, "I made my intention clear, that I wanted to challenge Greyback. Everyone knows he's... he's a firm believer in trying to remain permanently wolf. He doesn't like the shapeshifting aspect. He's... savage. He's strong and he... before he was turned, I think he fought a lot underground or something. He's..." Dudley shook his head. "Getting hit by him was... it was worse than that time we fell from the fire escape and you guys landed on me."

Harry could only imagine how _that_ must have felt.

"He was... every hit, every kick..." Dudley shook his head, "He ripped my shirt and... his hands were more like claws... then he went for my throat... his teeth, they were all canines, you know. So..." He gave a wolfish grin here, one that seemed to bring out the creature within for a brief moment, "So I transformed."

"That was risky," Callahan said immediately, looking worried. "You know that we weren't positive which strain of lycanthropy you had."

"It's why I had to wait until he almost won," Dudley admitted. "I know trying it normally never works, but I thought a life or death scenario..."

"Are you _insane?"_ Blades demanded, glaring. "How the hell do you get decent grades with the amount of stupidity that you have? If..." He didn't finish, just shaking his head, obviously angry. "You could have been stuck that way! You don't have the training-!"

"I had to," Dudley said simply.

"For _what?"_ Blades snapped, obviously angry. "You know how long it takes a normal witch or wizard to get the training for an animagus, let alone for a creature that targets humans? The idiots in charge probably don't even know basic biology and your dumb ass was out there just transforming for a fight you didn't even have to get into!"

"Chill," Jinx said simply, placing her hand on their friend's shoulder. "He knew the risks and he turned out okay, right? It's not what could have happened or we'll never stop hitting him for stupidity. It's what did happen. He's okay."

"Your cousin had damn well better lick your shoes for this," Blades hissed, angry.

"What..." Harry didn't know what the problem was, but it seemed big.

Blades jabbed his thumb at Dudley, "He risked his sanity and humanity for some cousin that probably doesn't even know he exists."

Harry whirled to face Dudley, his eyes wide with horror. "Why?" Harry asked, knowing that Dudley knew the _real_ question.

"... He's my family," Dudley said simply, looking steadily at Harry. "My cousin who is on the run, who was stuck with people who didn't even want their son after learning what he was-"

"You're not a what," Harry said it softly. "It wasn't worth the risk. There are other ways to make someone safe. You shouldn't have risked everything like that."

"To me it was worth it," Dudley said it simply, his eyes boring into Harry's.

"Well, like Jinx said," Callahan said simply, "what's done is done and someone was looking out for our idiot." He chuckled and shook his head. "I think it's getting late and you're going to need all the rest you can get. Greyback's death is going to hit the news like wildfire."

Grace smirked, "I can shut my father up by telling him who the new Alpha of the largest werewolf pack in the country-"

"Continent," Dudley corrected quietly, yawning. "It might be the world, since I was told that we have branches basically... everywhere. I sent out the order that everyone is to be here within two weeks. Greyback was branching out. He wanted a lot of foreign people and I want to know why."

"You might be the Minister's daughter, Grace," Jinx said quietly, sighing, "but you know they're not going to listen unless you actually have a witch or wizard with you."

Harry grinned, "Good thing you'll have one. We'll go first thing in the morning-"

"No," Grace said. "We want to be there mid-morning so that everyone will be in. We waltz in and announce to the guard that we're the ambassadors of the new werewolf Alpha. They have protocol for it, but by mid-morning everybody will be there and rumors will go fast."

"All right," Harry said. "I'll see you tomorrow then. I'm going to get home." He blinked as he realized how easily the word had come to his lips, to his mind.

_Home._ Harry had always considered Hogwarts his home. How could one summer make him think... Harry pushed the thoughts away as he used the fireplace. He greeted Lex and was walking back to the cottage when he noticed someone in the window.

The beard and hair had always stood out, after all. He was only one of the most famous wizards in the world... the Headmaster of Hogwarts... Dumbledore.

Harry stared from the road through the window. _No._ He was _not_ going to get caught, not now, not when Dudley needed him.

The headmaster looked up, looked past the window, and Harry glared directly back at him, right back into those bright blue eyes that widened when the headmaster realized he was being watched. Dumbledore was _not_ getting his way. Secrets all summer and he thought he could just get Harry easily? No. The surge of fury and anger filled Harry and he gripped his wand tightly. He knew better than to think about attacking Dumbledore. Instead, narrowing his eyes, Harry whirled and walked away from the house, deciding to wander the village until Dumbledore left.

Harry hoped it'd be soon. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be rather busy and he wanted all the rest he could get.


	5. Chapter 5

" _I have been misunderstood perhaps more than anyone else ever, but it has not affected me, for the simple reason that there is no desire to be understood. It is their problem if they don't understand, it is not my problem. If they misunderstand, it is their problem and their misery. I am not going to waste my sleep because millions of people are misunderstanding me. "_

~ Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

* * *

**5.**

Harry's feet took him past the cemetery and he hesitated. Should he pay his respects again?

No. That was a dead giveaway, especially with Dumbledore around. He breathed deeply a few times before he realized he was moving and was in front of the pub that Lex worked at. Shrugging, Harry walked inside. There were people but Lex seemed to have taken care of them.

"Hey Light," he greeted. "What brings you back here?"

"Bathilda's got a visitor," Harry said this with a shrug, feigning as if it wasn't important. "I didn't want to be rude and barge in, you know?"

Lex rolled his eyes, and said teasingly, "Right, of course, don't want to barge into your own place. Well, you can hang here til the guest you obviously don't like leaves."

"Am I that obvious?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I can't imagine you thinking you're being rude by going to the place where you live unless you don't want to go in. And most folks wouldn't want to go in if someone they don't like is there." Lex shrugged. "Like I said though, you can hang here for a bit."

"Thanks," Harry said, relieved. "Can I have some pumpkin juice?"

"Sure."

Harry took his bottle of pumpkin juice and went to a corner to sip and think. He was nervous and worried. Dumbledore couldn't drag him away, not now! But... oh no.

_The cloak! Stupid, Potter, utterly stupid!_

Harry whapped himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand. How had he forgotten that the Invisibility Cloak was there? Dumbledore knew how the cloak would look, he'd know that Harry was there! He was going to probably excuse himself and fetch Harry right away... and then how would they help Dudley? How would he be able to do anything with everyone lecturing him and being secretive?

_Calm down._ He kept telling himself this and in a few minutes, he managed to do just that. Dumbledore _had_ seen him, through the window. But the Headmaster hadn't come outside or anything. In fact, he had seemed actually surprised. Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice. There was no actual proof, but if Dumbledore was there to collect him, wouldn't he have done it already?

And then... he would be missed. Lex and the others would ask about him. Maybe Bathilda too, and Harry knew that people in the village had seen him. Nobody could just whisk him away without an explanation. He'd be fine for a while. He breathed deeply once more before taking another sip of pumpkin juice.

It took a while before he finished his pumpkin juice. He took his time sipping at it and thinking about what might happen when he and Grace went to the Ministry. Finally, calm, Harry thanked Lex and went back to Bathilda's house. He noticed that Dumbledore was gone, which was a bit of a relief, truth be told. He entered the house and Bathilda turned.

"Oh Gellert!" She gave him a smile, "You just missed Albus."

Wait.

Dumbledore... Harry wanted to beat his head. Bathilda had said before that Gellert was friends with Albus, right? How had he forgotten Dumbledore's first name?

Well... he didn't really hear anyone use it often...

"I think he might be a little jealous," Bathilda continued, making Harry look at her.

"Jealous?" He asked, not understanding. Why would Dumbledore be jealous? He was probably there to collect Harry!

"Well, yes, I think your other friends might be making him a bit jealous," Bathilda said, amusement obvious. "I'm glad you're adjusting, but I did introduce you for a reason. You both did get along so well too, I'm very happy for both of you." She looked like she was in the know of something, and Harry had no idea what it could be.

"Get along well?" Harry echoed.

"Oh Gellert, anyone with eyes knows the truth," she said, rolling her own eyes. "I'll keep it quiet, you know that, but I must insist that if you're going to be intimate friends with him that you inform your other friends he comes first."

What was she talking about? Intimate... Wait. WAIT A SECOND. Was she saying that... NO. NO NO AND NO!

"INTIMATE FRIENDS?" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide. His brain really couldn't think of much else to say.

She just patted Harry's shoulder, "It's okay, you can't control your heart. I won't tell anyone, you don't have to leave again. I'm sure if you talk, he'll understand why you didn't stay."

"I-Bathilda, I-he's-Dumbledore-" Harry couldn't think. She thought... but _how?_ For one, he was a guy! For another, Dumbledore was _not_ young. How old was this Gellert? Where was he? Had he died? Harry didn't know, but he did know that he wasn't _anything_ with Dumbledore! "We're... I'm really not... um... er... we're not... I'm not... er... we're not intimate friends."

Bathilda looked as if she were humoring him now, and Harry just mentally groaned. "If you say so, Gellert. I think he's feeling self conscious. I think he's very stressed, he even looks older now. I'm sure your friends will understand, and you're not shallow, you don't care how he looks, do you? You and Albus were so close before you left..." Bathilda just patted him on the shoulder once more, "It's okay. The course of true love never did run smooth."

"I think I'm going to go to bed now," Harry said, trying very, very hard to think of something, anything else, besides Dumbledore's love life. Bathilda wasn't helping, of course.

"Don't worry Gellert, he's always been such a nice boy, he won't hurt you, he'll understand why you left!"

"Bathilda, really I don't-"

"Do you want me to tell him for you?"

"No!"

"I think he'll be happy to see you again, he hasn't paid a visit here in ages, but of course since you're back I'm sure that will change."

"No it won't!" Harry said, wanting to groan once more. He also had the strong urge to take a headache relief potion. "Can we just drop this now?"

"Oh Gellert, you don't have to be shy."

Why did everything weird happen to him? Of _all_ the people he had to look like, apparently he had to look like Dumbledore's old flame? If the real Gellert showed up, he was _so_ screwed. But Dumbledore hadn't said anything to Bathilda, had he? She was still normal... and she kept saying Gellert 'went away.' Harry just hoped Dumbledore wouldn't do anything just yet. "Have a good night, Bathilda."

"Good night, Gellert!"

Harry shut the door behind him, removing his contacts and just collapsing onto the bed, thinking. Why had Dumbledore been there? Bathilda had said he hadn't visited in ages, meaning odds were somehow he had heard about the person living with Bathilda.

But he had seen Harry. He had even looked... surprised. Thinking about it, Harry had never seen Dumbledore look like that, not even when his name had been called as the fourth Triwizard Champion.

Yet the idea of fooling Dumbledore when not even the Weasley twins had managed was laughable.

_Why me?_ Harry thought to himself, shaking his head. None of that really mattered right now. He had to get some sleep. After a bit, he managed to do just that, waking up rather early the next day. He got ready and made breakfast and was soon on his way to meet the others. It was a pretty busy morning, Harry noticed; werewolves were arriving all morning.

It made sense though; Dudley had said he had put out an order for all of them to come back. Harry was curious as to why someone would want a lot of branching out, given the various descriptions he had heard about the old Alpha. And Harry had met Fenris Graham-if Greyback had been like him at all, Harry could see where the bad reputation for werewolves came from.

Finally, it was mid-morning. Grace and Harry used the floo network to go to the Ministry. Just as Grace had guessed the day before, it was rather busy and crowded.

The guard looked bored. "Wand check-in," he said.

Before Harry could check in his wand, Grace said simply, "We're ambassadors. Clause 192b states we don't have to check in. Could you inform the Minister and other proper authorities that we're here, please?"

"You're ambassadors," the guard repeated sarcastically, looking at the two of them.

"We represent Dudley Dursley, formerly known as Nicholas Selwyn, the new Alpha of the Umbra Pack."

The guard looked at the two of them now, really _looked_. Slowly he said, "Fenrir Greyback is the Alpha of the Umbra Pack." He sounded almost frightened of just the name.

Harry grinned and said simply, "Not anymore."

Perhaps it was the grin or the fact that neither Grace nor Harry looked as if they were joking, because the guard quickly did as Grace had said. And Harry noticed people were whispering, having heard the exchange. They looked surprised and the whispers...

Harry forced himself not to stare at one of the people in the crowd. Arthur Weasley seemed just as startled by the news. It felt like such a long time since Harry had last caught a glimpse of Mr. Weasley, that first night he had left.

He looked much older now, tired, but still was smiling and talking to someone. He also seemed a bit disturbed, obviously having heard the news about the new Alpha.

It was harder than Harry thought it'd be, seeing someone he knew right there, someone that would be able to at least tell his friends that he was okay. The thought went away quickly though, when Harry saw the entourage that Fudge was bringing with him.

Harry recognized Umbridge by now, thanks to Grace's complaints and his prior meetings. He also knew Percy Weasley and wondered why he was there for. He also recognized Mr. Amos Diggory... Cedric's father. The familiar waves of guilt hurt, but Harry knew he couldn't let a sign of recognition cross his face. There was a square-jawed witch with close-cropped gray hair and a monocle and, of course, Fudge himself with his usual bowler hat.

"What are you playing at?" He said angrily to Grace, eyes widening when Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at him.

"How dare you threaten the Minister like that!" Umbridge snapped. "Someone take this boy's wand away!"

When nobody moved, the witch with the monocle spoke, "I am Madam Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Please put down your wand, we meant no disrespect. You're representing a new Alpha?"

"Yes we are," Grace confirmed. "At his request, we're here so that you would feel more comfortable. He thought a wizard and magical citizen would show that he has no interest in world conquest like his predecessor did."

Mr. Diggory looked surprised and both he and Madam Bones shared looks.

"Of course he'd say that," Umbridge sneered. "And in return he wants us to lift restrictions? Well I won't do it!"

Harry narrowed his eyes, angry, and said simply, "You don't make up the entire Ministry."

"How dare you! Minister, do you really want to deal with _children?_" She made an annoying tutting sound, "And young Grace, you shouldn't be hanging with such creatures-"

"Werewolves are beings in their untransformed state," Grace said through gritted teeth.

"And with the Wolvesbane potion, they manage to retain their rationality even when transformed," Harry seconded.

"We aren't here to argue. We just wished to inform you of the changes."

"Wait," Fudge said, shaking his head. "Werewolves haven't wanted anything to do with the Ministry for decades. A new leader, you said. Why isn't he here with you?"

"He thought it would be less imposing," Harry answered. It was true, after all. "He also is busy making sure the pack adjusts to having a new leader. He mentioned that most of them, if not all, never knew life under another Alpha besides Greyback."

"This is... all right, come on, there's an office around here, we'll be able to make arrangements or something..." Fudge grumbled, obviously not liking this one single bit. He led the way to the lifts, Harry allowing Grace to go in front and he followed, his hand on his wand. He didn't trust the people here. Hadn't they seen the newspaper slandering him and Dumbledore and done nothing?

_Sheep_. That was what they were, but Harry knew the truth and that was all that mattered. He didn't care if people thought he was insane, because he had bigger things to worry about. Before this summer, before the changeling and learning who his real cousin was... Harry was sure he would have been deeply affected. But now it seemed almost as if...

Oh, who was he kidding. He knew the truth: he _liked_ being Light more than Harry Potter. He didn't have to worry about his fame or anyone keeping things from him. He was _free._ He had a home where magic was encouraged and liked. He liked being normal.

Well... as normal as one of the ambassadors for a huge werewolf pack could be. Harry managed to not chuckle, but he couldn't hide the small grin at the thought. They were soon brought to an office on the second level. It seemed to be a rather busy level, and Harry noticed the seal that stated "DMLE" on the wall. He glanced at Percy and remembered where he had worked last year.

"Why Law Enforcement?" Harry asked slowly, causing Grace to stop walking.

"What?" Fudge inquired, looking at him.

"Why not the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"

"Well, for one this isn't international," Fudge said, glaring at Harry.

Madam Bones seemed to give a quiet sigh, "At the moment, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has control over the Department of International Magical Cooperation because they're missing a Head."

"And the Werewolf Services?" Harry continued.

"You're not werewolves," Umbridge snapped quickly... too quickly, actually.

"They're right though," Amos said thoughtfully, looking as if he were going to say more.

"That's enough," Fudge spoke before Amos continued, but now Madam Bones was looking at him as if she had never seen him before.

"Cornelius, that would be a sign of very bad faith, if you were going to do what I'm suspecting," Madam Bones said slowly. "Taking the two he sent to attempt to force him to help you find Harry Potter won't move us forward with the werewolves."

Grace stared at her father, who didn't look at her, only at Madam Bones, "And if I were? Right now, he's showing that the werewolves are beasts that don't care about civic duty!"

_Beasts?_

Harry wanted to hit Fudge as hard as he could. He could see on Grace's face that the idea was also in her head. Harry was sorely tempted to make their thoughts a reality, but he saw the looks of surprise on Amos and Percy's faces. So they hadn't known what Fudge had planned to do, then? Or were they just good actors? He didn't know... but he did know that Fudge was stubborn.

"I think we have our answer, Grace," Harry said simply. "Let's go."

"Good idea," Grace agreed, turning on her heel. They walked away, ignoring the calls from Amos Diggory and Madam Bones.

"Grace!" Fudge snapped. "Get back here this instant, young lady!"

Grace turned, and Harry could see the anger in her face. "No, Father. I won't."

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage at his daughter's lack of respect.

"You insult my best friend and countless others and you seem to have forgotten common sense. He sent envoys to you, ones that you know you can trust, and you spit in our faces."

"Envoys?" Fudge snarled, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"

"He thought he'd extend the hand of friendship, now, before it's too late," Grace said simply. "So that nobody could accuse the werewolves of siding with anyone that is against the Ministry."

"And who exactly do you mean by 'anyone?'" Umbridge simpered, glaring at her.

Harry spoke now, not caring and not letting his friend suffer alone. "We mean Voldemort, madam. Their new Alpha does not want people to think Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"_LIES!"_ Umbridge roared. "Those are just rumors and lies-!"

"And the people accused are good upstanding citizens. Potter needs St. Mungo's, after the years with that changeling it's hardly his fault that he's mad-" Fudge began.

Harry lost it and opened his mouth to speak, but Grace beat him to it, looking as if she were about to cry. "What's happened to you?" It was almost a whisper, and now Harry just held an arm over her shoulders. "What happened to the man who knew that it doesn't matter what background someone has, but what they turn out to be? What happened to the man that wanted to be Minister to make sure we would be safe through reaching out hands of understanding and tolerance? Wasn't that why you ran in the first place, Father? You loved the office that you hold because it would show that people who wanted tolerance and understanding would always overcome falsehoods, always encouraged me having friends because it showed we were normal! _What's happened to you?_"

Silence, utter silence, until Fudge whispered, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have allowed you to hang with those children. They've turned you almost as mad as Potter... I'll have to speak to your mother..."

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Father," said Grace, "then we have reached a parting of the ways."

Harry spoke now, the entire thing reminding him very much of that night in June when Voldemort had come back, "Minister... You must act as you see fit. And we... we shall act as we see fit."

Harry knew his voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Harry were advancing upon him with a wand.

"How dare you," he snarled. "You children know nothing and think that you can come here and threaten the Ministry? You listen to idiotic rumors and beasts and now you're going to work against me -"

"The only one against whom any of us intend to work against is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Minister, on the same side."

Harry knew whose words he was using: Dumbledore's. But they fit the situation he was in now, and so he had used them.

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Nobody spoke and Harry said simply, "If you wish to continue negotiations or speaking, then we shall be with our friend and the new Alpha of the Umbra Pack, Dudley Dursley. Come on Grace."

And this time... no one called after them. They left the Ministry and returned to their friends, Harry astonished by the fact werewolves were _still_ arriving. Good thing they were on a huge, Unplottable and hidden campground! The sheer number was massive!

"So how did it go?" Dudley inquired as they entered the tent that he was in. Harry was glad for magic, especially with this. The tent was well protected and warded so that nobody could hear anything discussed inside, even if the person talking had a sonorus charm on. Very handy for a leader to have, and well, wasn't that what his cousin was now?

"Pretty badly," Grace said, sighing as she and Harry sat. "My father is still in denial about You-Know-Who being back."

Dudley nodded and said, "And negotiations?"

"Null and void at this point. Light said that if they wanted to try again, we'd be here." Grace sighed now, "I wish he wasn't so _stupid_. He wasn't always like this, was he?"

"No," Blades said quietly, coming in and having heard her. "But I guess being a politician, he has to appease some people to stay in."

She just nodded, looking irritated still.

The tent opened and the four looked up in surprise as Remus Lupin entered the tent. Dudley slowly grinned as he stood up and hugged the man fiercely. "Hello again. I didn't think you were part of this pack..."

"I guess the same could be said of you," Lupin said, amused. He nodded to the others while Dudley sat back down. Harry sat to Dudley's left, Blades and grace to his right. "You look tired."

"I look like I feel," Dudley said, amused. "I guess word will get out soon, but the Ministry apparently didn't react so well to our envoys."

Lupin sighed, shaking his head. "Umbridge?" He asked Harry and Grace.

"Right in one," Grace said tiredly.

"She really has it in for us," Dudley said quietly. "A lot of people have said she's the main reason they can't hold down a job."

"Same problem for me," Lupin said quietly, looking sad. "Well, I'm going to go meet a friend of mine, if that's all right? I'll be back before nightfall."

Dudley seemed surprised and said, "You can do whatever you want."

"You did ask for everyone to come here."

"I'm still waiting. It's really because of Greyback. He... well, you knew him. Why would someone like him want us everywhere? It's like he was planning something. Someone here probably has answers. But you're... I know what you're doing, Remus, and I'm fine with it."

"Thank you." Lupin's voice was soft. "I'll be back tomorrow to make sure you're all right." With that and a nod to everyone, he Apparated with a loud crack.

"Man, sometimes wizards have all the luck," Blades said, shaking his head. He seemed about to speak more, but everyone turned, confused and surprised, as a snowy owl flew in.

_Hedwig!_ Harry wanted to pet his owl happily, but she seemed to remember that he was disguised and landed on the table in front of both him and Dudley. She held out her foot, which had a letter attached to it.

Dudley glanced at Harry, who wanted to gulp.

_Harry Potter_ was written on the envelope and Harry knew the handwriting. It was Sirius's. Harry risked a look at Blades and Grace, who were still talking about wizards and Apparation. Finally they realized they were being looked at.

"What?" Grace asked, looking at Harry. "It's your letter, not ours."

"You... you knew?" Harry asked, surprised as he stared back and forth at them.

"They said you'd be drawn to your family," Blades said, shrugging. "You were the only new guy this summer and you even said people called you Harry when we first met, remember?"

Harry felt like an idiot. Yes, he had done that, hadn't he? "But..."

"You didn't want to be found," Dudley said, laying a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "After all of that crap the papers have spewed, nobody's really surprised."

"You believe me?" Harry looked around, surprised. "But... but you barely know me..."

"No offense," Blades said, smirking, "but I think we know you damn better than any of those reporters."

"And better than most of the folks in the Ministry," Grace said, looking amused.

"So whose owl is it? You looked like you knew her," Dudley said, smiling at Hedwig.

"She's mine," Harry admitted, petting her openly now. "Hedwig, that's my cousin Dudley."

Hedwig gently nipped Dudley's fingers and he pet her lightly. "Oh you are a gorgeous girl, yes you are..." Dudley cooed, causing the others to chuckle. "So who wrote the letter?"

"... My godfather."

"Sirius Black?" Blades was surprised. "But isn't he-"

"No," Harry said simply. "He was innocent. Peter Pettigrew did all of that and faked his death." He took the letter from Hedwig and sighed. "It's a long story, but he is innocent. A friend of mine and I tried to tell the Minister last year but he wouldn't listen."

"That sounds like my father all right," Grace said with a sigh.

"Well, what does he want?" Dudley asked, indicating the letter, as Grace and Blades both mentioned being hungry and left the two cousins alone.

Harry shrugged, glaring at the envelope. "I don't want to read it." Dudley just raised an eyebrow and Harry sighed and said, "All summer and they told me nothing! NOTHING!"

The frustration Harry had felt all summer seemed to rise like a snake from the grass and he shouted, "I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN ANY OF THEM MANAGED AND THEY KNOW IT! WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED THEM FROM THE DEMENTORS?"

Every bitter and resentful thought Harry had had over the summer was pouring out of him: his frustration at the lack of news, the hurt that everyone was together without him, the secrets, the worrying... all the feelings he had been half-ashamed of finally burst their boundaries. Hedwig took fright at the noise and soared off to the other side of the tent.

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME! BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

Harry breathed heavily for a few seconds, perhaps building up energy for a longer tirade, but Dudley interrupted quietly, "But you got them back."

"Huh?" Harry stared at Dudley, any thought of a continuing tirade gone. His cousin just indicated him and chuckled.

"Look at yourself. You're here. You're in a disguise and everyone's looking for you, right? You fooled people that know you. You got them back." Dudley looked thoughtful and continued, "They're probably worried now. They probably feel just as frustrated as you."

"Good!" Harry said, hitting the table with his hand and then sighing and raking both hands through his hair.

"Your words say one thing but your actions say another."

"Shut up."

"You don't like lying to them."

"I'm not lying to them!"

"Fine. You don't like keeping secrets from them then. You love them. And they hurt you, because you don't think they trust you."

Dudley's words were simple, but he was right. Harry just nodded glumly.

"I think you should read it, at the very least. It might be an apology."

"It's probably just him wanting to keep me safe," Harry said dully. "Probably whining that I'm being a stupid little boy and to let the grown-ups settle everything."

"If that's the case, just remind him that children grow up, and you're doing just that." Dudley shrugged and Hedwig, seeing that the noise was gone, flew back to them.

Harry sighed and, perhaps more slowly than he could ever recall doing before, opened the letter.

It was a far cry from what he had been expecting, and he looked at Dudley, confused, and showed it to him.

"'If you're dead, I'm going to kill you.'" Dudley read this aloud, blinked and looked at Harry. "Are you sure he was innocent?"

"Of the crime he was put into Azkaban for, yeah," Harry said, looking at the letter and shaking his head. "Why would they think I'm dead? Didn't he find me?"

"... Everyone keeps saying our blood gives us protection..." Dudley said slowly, obviously thinking.

Harry understood, "You think it's protection, then? That nobody can find us, even to send a letter? That'd make sense but why could Hedwig? Why not just use her like Sirius did?"

"She's your pet, not theirs," Dudley shrugged. "Maybe she wouldn't listen to anyone else. Maybe he just begged her or something, I don't know. But she's a smart owl and you're her human. Just because she can find you doesn't mean anything else can."

"They think I'm dead?" Harry was stunned. Dumbledore had seen him! Mr. Weasley and Lupin... all of them had seen him! He couldn't have fooled Dumbledore!

Dudley looked at the letter for a long time before saying quietly, "I think you should write back to him."

Harry shook his head, "And what, tell him where I am and everything? No. We're too busy. And they kept telling me that the mail wasn't safe, that they couldn't tell me anything..." He was irritated at the thought of his summer before he had left once more.

"... Light." Dudley's voice was soft, quiet, reminding Harry that they weren't just cousins, they were friends. "You don't have to tell him anything important."

Harry didn't like the idea of it, but he had been meaning to tell Sirius he was okay... "I guess this works best then. And nobody that saw Hedwig will say anything?"

"You know we won't." Dudley smiled at him.

Harry chuckled, "I guess. I didn't know you guys had figured it out."

"We're friends. And even if they would've, you're my family. They wouldn't do that to me."

"Yeah..." Harry shook his head, "I'm sorry about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon-"

"Oh please. If that's what they did to me, I can only imagine what they did to you. And you had to live with them." Dudley looked sad now, "I'm sorry for my birth parents."

"It's not your fault that they're that way," Harry said.

"No," Dudley said quietly. "But if I had... if I had been tested or something, anything, maybe that changeling could have been found sooner-"

"Don't you dare blame yourself for that," Harry interrupted, looking at his cousin. "Nobody knew. It's nobody's fault except the changeling's and whoever controlled it." Harry thought for a minute before he smirked, "Here, give me a pen and some paper, I think I know what I'm going to say back."

"Something tells me I'm going to be pretty amused," Dudley said, standing up and rummaging around before finding what Harry had asked for.

"Here we go," Harry said after a few seconds of writing.

Dudley looked over and began to laugh, "_I know this must be frustrating for you… Keep your nose clean and everything will be OK… Be careful and don't do anything rash… I've been told not to say anything important in case my letter goes astray… I'm quite busy but I can't give you details here… There's a fair amount going on, I'll tell you everything when I see you…_" He glanced at Harry, "I'm guessing that's basically what he's been telling you all summer?"

"Right in one," Harry said, smirking. "Okay Hedwig, I've got a letter for you. I'm sorry I can't be with you, and you can't fly to me as much, but I'll make it up with lots of treats when everything calms down."

His owl seemed to understand and gave his fingers an affectionate nip before hooting and flying off with Harry's letter to Sirius.

"Well, I think our friends had the right idea," Dudley admitted. "I'm starved. Come on, let's eat."

"Sounds good," Harry said, grinning. He felt good. His friends knew the truth and didn't care, his cousin knew and it didn't matter... and he had finally written to his godfather. Sirius would probably tell Ron and Hermione that he was alive at least, so that worry of guilt was gone from his mind. Well, not completely lifted, but the worry of them not knowing _anything_ was.

"How's Bathilda doing? I know we've all been busy, but we don't want to ignore the lady that's been helping you out," Dudley said quietly as they walked.

"I'll probably travel back and forth like I've been doing," Harry said back, just as quiet. "Besides, the later I'm back, the better the odds that nobody in the village is awake, let alone outside, and I can pay my respects to my parents."

Dudley nodded, "Makes sense. When all of this dies down, I'll pay my respects to my aunt and uncle too." He looked serious and sad. "I wish I had known them."

"Me too," Harry said, knowing that he at least had the knowledge that his parents had died for him. His poor cousin had to live with the fact that his parents hadn't wanted anything to do with him. "We can just pretend they were your parents too, just that we were really stubborn twins and kept my mum at St. Mungo's for way too long."

Dudley just laughed and the two entered the tent where the food was, the talk moving from family to more interesting things like what they wanted to do regarding the Ministry and the werewolves in general. Much like Harry had predicted, he left rather late, far too late for anyone to be awake, let alone outside.

He wandered the streets of Godric's Hollow before he entered the cemetery, pausing a brief moment by Ariana and Kendra Dumbledore's grave.

Witches and wizards could live for a long time. Bathilda, Dumbledore... they were all proof of that. Why hadn't these two? Had they been murdered like Harry's parents?

"You know, not that I'm complaining about anyone willing to remind my brother that he's human and screws up, but I can't fathom why the hell you'd pretend to be Grindelwald to do it."

Harry jumped and whirled, his wand out. He hadn't heard the man until he spoke, and the man just held up his hands in a gesture that made it obvious he wasn't looking for a fight.

It was the same man Harry had seen the last time he had been in the cemetery, when he had been so overwhelmed at seeing his parents, at remembering their sacrifice that he had been crying.

The man that had reminded him of Dumbledore and had made him think of goats.

"Your brother?" Harry asked, having a sinking feeling that he wouldn't like the answer.

"You might know of him, pretty well-known guy, smart, into alchemy and that boring chamber music, thinks he's great at tenpin bowling but he constantly gets gutterballs... oh, and he's Headmaster of Hogwarts. His name's Albus Dumbledore, mine is Aberforth Dumbledore and you sure as hell aren't Gellert Grindelwald."

Harry had been right; he hadn't liked the answer.

"... Grindelwald?" Harry asked, staring at the man, at this Aberforth, confused. "Most people around here just call me Light." He held out his right hand, since his left was still pointing his wand, for a handshake. It was relatively quick, of course.

"Funny," Aberforth said with a smirk.

"What?"

"You didn't give me your name."

Harry blanched. Most people didn't think much when he gave the nickname, just went with it.

Aberforth Dumbledore seemed to be smarter than his brother, and Harry had always thought that the headmaster seemed all-knowing. And unlike Dumbledore, Aberforth seemed willing to be right to-the-point regarding it. This was not good at all...

"Calm down," Aberforth said before he shrugged. "Like I said, I'm not complaining. Albus needs folks to take him down a few pegs." He moved past Harry and looked at the tomb. "You've paid your respects before, but you don't know who they are, do you?"

Harry shook his head, remaining silent.

"Kendra Dumbledore was our mother. My dear, darling brother happens to take after her. Secrets upon secrets, keeping his trap shut, all of that fun stuff. I love them, but they can be foolish. Albus especially since his intelligence doesn't always translate into common sense." Aberforth glanced at Harry before he indicated the other name and said, obviously more respectful, "And my sister. Our younger sister, Ariana."

Perhaps Aberforth took Harry's continued silence as a sign to continue, or perhaps he just wanted to speak. Either way, he continued, "Albus is human. A lot of people, they forget that fact, including him sometimes. You being here reminds him of that, which is good. He needs that. But I think you should know what exactly you walked into, kid. Maybe you didn't know, but that's whose identity you took up. Gellert Grindelwald." He laid a few dandelions on the tomb.

A few silent moments passed as Aberforth bowed his head in deference and respect for the dead. Harry shifted nervously.

Aberforth turned and looked at Harry seriously. "The first dark lord of this century... and the only man my brother loved. So be cautious." He stood up from kneeling at the tomb. "Have a good night... Light." With that and a loud crack, Aberforth Dumbledore was gone.

Harry was numb as he walked to his parents tomb. He stood silently for a few moments before leaving, his brain somehow managing to race through thoughts so fast that it couldn't think.

Gellert _Grindelwald? _Harry had always thought that dark lords were like Voldemort. He had made up his name, Harry knew. But looking back, Harry realized that most dark witches and wizards only had the titles history gave them... and even then, most of the time it was their names. Voldemort was the odd one there, not Grindelwald.

But that... none of this made sense. How could he somehow look like the dark lord before Voldemort? It was a little ironic, to Harry. He fought Voldemort but yet his disguise resembled another dark wizard.

The dark wizard that Dumbledore had defeated in a legendary duel.

_"The only man my brother loved." _

Harry didn't understand how that was possible. Why would Dumbledore have fought him then?

"_But I think you should know what exactly you walked into, kid."_ But that wasn't true at all! Aberforth had only given him more questions! What had Harry gotten himself into? He had only meant to lay low for a few weeks! How had all of this happened to him?

It didn't matter. None of that mattered. He would help Bathilda still because it was the right thing to do. He knew who he really was, and...

And Dumbledore's personal life, his history? That was his business, not Harry's. Unless someone made it Harry's business, unless someone really thought Harry was... Gellert freaking Grindelwald... then it didn't matter. Harry had things to do, important things, and he couldn't waste time worrying about misconceptions of him.

Walking into the house and checking on Bathilda, who was sleeping, Harry went to his room and finally took a, in his humble opinion, a well-deserved rest.

And once more, corridors, hallways, graveyards and ghosts haunted his dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

"_Reality isn't the way you wish things to be, nor the way they appear to be, but the way they actually are."_

~Robert J. Ringer

* * *

**6**.

The sound of footsteps woke Harry, who yawned and quickly got ready for the day.

"Good morning Gellert!" Bathilda said this pleasantly with the air of someone plotting something. How did Harry know what the air of someone plotting something was like?

Well, he suspected it had to do with the fact that he usually had cause to be suspicious when people sounded too happy. Mentally telling himself to stop acting like Moody, Harry smiled. "Good morning Bathilda. I would have cooked breakfast, you didn't have to wake up early."

"I wanted to be sure I caught you before you left!" The elderly woman was beaming for no reason, but Harry couldn't help but give her a smile.

"I'm sorry I haven't spent a lot of time with you lately, I've just been pretty busy," Harry said, sitting at the table.

"You'll be home for tea, though?" Bathilda asked hopefully.

Harry sighed and answered honestly, "I don't know. It depends on what's going on. The werewolves have a new Alpha." At Bathilda's look of interest, Harry continued, "You remember my friend that came here, the really tall one?"

"Oh, he was quite nice and very strong, he even picked me up! Nicholas, right? Lovely young man."

Bathilda really was getting more coherent. Coherent enough to remember new people. It was both good and a bit nerve-wracking.

"Well..." Harry looked at the table, "It turns out that he's related to Harry Potter. His real name was Dudley Dursley. Apparently, Harry Potter was living with a changeling." It felt so strange to talk about himself in the third person.

Bathilda's eyes widened, "I hope that he's okay. Changelings can be quite mean." She smiled, "Well, either way, I'm glad the werewolves have a nice person in charge of them. Make sure you tell him that!"

"I will," Harry said, giving a smile. "It's why we're so busy. We're trying to help him, but it's really hard. Today I was going to try to learn more about the Wolfsbane potion."

Bathilda perked up, "I know Damocles Belby, I'm sure he'd be delighted to help."

"Um..." Harry didn't know who that was and he felt rather stupid since it might be someone obvious.

"Oh Gellert," Bathilda said this as she ruffled his hair. "That's the one who invented the Wolfsbane potion!" She smiled, "He and Hector Dagworth-Granger will be of great help to you young children. Hector especially, he's the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers."

_Granger?_ Harry perked up, thinking immediately of Hermione. If Bathilda knew this Hector person, he probably wasn't a Muggleborn like Hermione. Except what if Hermione's family weren't all Muggle like they had thought? What if they were distantly related if someone in Hermione's family had been a Squib?

Then again, Potter was a really common last name and Harry knew he wasn't related to everyone with that last name. He'd have to remember to mention the person to Hermione and knowing her, she'd look into it.

Bathilda seemed distracted now, and Harry looked at her, worried. "Bathilda? Are you all right?"

"Oh I'm fine," she said, hitting him gently with a dish towel as she sat with their breakfast. "I just worry about you. You were so worried when you left before, and so busy just like you are now."

How could Gellert Grindelwald have given up the sort of family Harry would have given anything to have? If his aunt Petunia had cared half as much as Bathilda did, Harry was positive he would have had a much better childhood. "I'm sorry."

She tutted and shook her head, "I'm not young anymore but I know that I don't want you to end up like me, Gellert. All work..." she sighed. "Don't end up alone. Albus would be good for you if you'd both stop being so stubborn."

Harry wanted to groan once more. "I-"

"I know, I know," Bathilda said, obviously just humoring him. Harry just sighed and looked at his breakfast. "Please come to tea today? Just one time, see him. For me?" She placed a very wrinkled hand over Harry's.

The teen wanted to beat his head against the table in frustration, but how could he say no? Bathilda Bagshot had given him a place to stay over the summer and probably had done more in cementing his false identity without realizing it than anyone else. She was an older witch, someone who had been alone for a long time.

"Of course I'll be home for tea," Harry said quietly. "I might be a little late, but I will be here. Okay?"

He was almost glad he had given in. The broad grin that broke out on her face could have rivaled sunshine. "Oh Gellert, thank you!" She hugged Harry tightly and was eating with a vigor Harry hadn't expected in her and was finished before him. "I'll tell Damocles and Hector to meet you at the werewolf settlement, oh they'll love it... and do be careful Gellert. Tell your friends that too!"

Harry chuckled, "I'll be careful and I'll pass the message on."

Bathilda continued to beam at him, "You really are such a good boy, Gellert!" With that she trotted off and Harry, finishing his breakfast, left to where the others were, at the werewolf settlement.

He could hear the hustle and bustle of the morning activities and a voice as he walked, "Oh dear! I am so sorry honey, but that simply won't do!"

A loud groan rang out and Harry had to bite back a laugh as he turned a corner and saw Callahan at a large table. He was dressed in tights and a ruffled shirt today, and he had his wand out. Obviously the table had been conjured and he was working on his potions. Harry recognized the household magic that Mrs. Weasley had always done to prepare food being used on the potions ingredients and was a bit surprised. Callahan seemed to be able to keep his eye on that and to simultaneously hold a conversation with someone who had brought the wrong type of cauldron. "Honey, you did a good job in finding a cauldron, but you have to have a nice sturdy one, not a collapsible one." He looked over the cauldron and sighed, "And if you could find a nice thick one, that'd be best."

Graham was the werewolf holding the cauldron and he looked utterly mortified at being called 'honey.' Harry just chuckled as he watched, earning a slight glower from Graham but it wasn't as bad as the day of their football match. In fact, it seemed almost laced with a bit of respect as he ran off to get another cauldron.

"Oh hello Light!" Callahan said pleasantly. "If you're looking for my boy, he's roaming all around. If you wouldn't mind helping me, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure," Harry said. "What do you need?"

"I have everything sliced and mostly ready, but I can't use magic on the aconite." He looked rather tired but still cheerful as he held up a flower with roots sticking out. "We need the roots, yes, but look." He made sure Harry was looking, "Do you see the hollow spur, here at the apex?"

"Yes sir," Harry answered truthfully.

"We need the petals as intact as possible and we also need the nectar. That's really the most important thing because the petals, if they're not perfect can be mixed with the stem." Callahan smiled, "Think of it as a petal salad. But the nectar really is important. Do you know how to take it out of the plant?"

"... Cut the stem and scrape it?" Harry suggested, remembering his potions classes. That was how they did it there, after all.

Callahan seemed to muse for a moment before saying, "Well, that is a way to do it, yes, but I've found that the Muggle world has a better solution."

"Really?" Harry was interested which felt... weird. Potions were normally _evil_. Though that might have been because it was always taught by Snape. And Harry had never seen Snape use any Muggle items in his class or in his own storeroom.

"Oh yes," Callahan said, smiling. "Half a second." He rummaged around before taking out a few things Harry recognized immediately: a permanent marker, a hospital syringe, and sticky labels. "The marker is much easier than a quill and parchment and spellotape," Callahan explained. "The syringe helps remove nectar. It's actually very similar to how animals in nature do it, and it cuts a bit on the amount of stem that comes with the nectar, like it would with the knife method." He seemed thoughtful, "There are many other things that help, just go observe any chemist at work, but unfortunately many of my colleagues consider them too unorthodox to test farther."

"Other things?" Harry asked, curious.

"Yes. The fact that Muggles make their things without magic means that the odds are very high that they won't contaminate the ingredients we use. But we continue to use things made by witches and wizards who rely very heavily on magic and our standards..." Callahan sighed, "I wish we'd just standardize cauldron thickness."

"Does that matter?" Harry asked. Why did this sound familiar?

"Oh yes. There was a Ministry report a while ago about it. Some of the foreign imports are just a shade too thin and leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year."

Harry remembered now. Percy had been writing that report when he had gone to the Burrow, and Ron had even teased him... _'That'll change the world, that report will. Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.'_

He had been amused at the time, but now someone else was mentioning that same report, someone that was trying to help his cousin and others. "Would standardizing them mean anything?

"It would help potion brewers immensely," Callahan said tiredly. "The market is flooded with flimsy, shallow bottomed products. Right now, I'm very busy here so I can't go myself to get a proper cauldron. If things were standardized, I could send you with the size requirements and there would be no issue. Unfortunately, with the leaks and lack of standards, there is a risk of danger."

"From _cauldron leaks?_" Harry asked, not wanting to believe it.

"Oh yes," Callahan smiled at him. "Sometimes someone has brewed a potion perfectly but it might blow up in their face or become warped due to something that small."

Harry had a flash of Neville Longbottom. "Really?"

"Yes. Some potions are very volatile and a minor leak causes some ingredients to seep out. You don't notice and you add more ingredients..." Callahan trailed off and shrugged, "I know most people don't really care because many people buy their potions outside of school, but it really is a headache when you're attempting to brew things. Anyway, will you be all right with helping me with the aconite preparation?"

"Sure," Harry said, helping the man with it. It was fun to work with him-he explained things as they worked, like why certain ingredients were necessary in potions and the effects of them. Harry had never really thought of potions as interesting, let alone fun, before.

Perhaps sometimes it was the way something was taught. Harry was beyond impressed at the fact that, since Callahan had him doing the prep work for the Wolfsbane Potion, he was focusing on a bunch of other potions and still able to answer questions that Harry asked.

"I don't understand something," Harry said, feeling a bit foolish.

"Hm?" Callahan glanced over at him. "Do you need help?"

"Oh no, I'm sorry, just... we're using Muggle things, so why can't Muggles brew potions? You even said a chemist might be able to help us out."

Callahan gave a brief smile, "We can learn from each other and like you're doing right now, a Muggle can help with prep work. Unfortunately though Muggles cannot brew potions, because the potioneer has to channel magic through whatever they are using for it to work."

"Really?" Harry looked at the ingredients with mild surprise.

"Potions is a very subtle form of magic," Callahan said, amused at the surprise on Harry's face. "Ah, there we are. Just was finishing up the star grass salve and oculus."

"Oculus?"

Callahan nodded, "The oculus potion. I saw some people were rubbing their eyes and I was a little concerned there might be a pinkeye outbreak or something since the eyes seemed swollen and irritated." He yawned, "When we're finished this, I think I'll take a nap and then work on making sure we have a decent supply of essence of dittany." He grinned, "I haven't had work like this in years. It's fabulous!"

Harry just chuckled as Callahan sat next to him and began helping with the prep work. "So why do we need so much? I know there are a lot of werewolves here but this seems like way too much for the number."

"Ah, that's because it must be drunk once per day in the week leading up to the full moon."

"That's... a lot..." Harry looked at the size of the cauldron. That really did explain a lot about it.

"Yes, and if done wrong or with shoddy materials, all of our work goes down the drain," Callahan said.

"I asked Bathilda about it. She said she'll ask Damocles Belby and Hector Dagworth-Granger if they'll help."

Callahan smiled, "That would be wonderful, having other people. I'm sure both of them know how to brew the potion and we'll probably have our own work areas so that we don't disrupt the others."

"You wouldn't work together?"

"Oh goodness no," Callahan said, shaking his head. "That's why Potions Masters are hard for schools to convince to work for them. You have to stick a group of students into a room and make sure they learn. Plus you can't brew in a style you're probably most comfortable with and you have to force the students to work in an area that might not be the best for them." He gave Harry a look, "I personally prefer brewing in an area like this, wide and outside, but Damocles? HA. I've worked with the man. Stick him in a nice cramped area and he'll do wonders. I think he's a bit agoraphobic."

"Agoraphobic?"

"Afraid of wide, open spaces," Callahan explained. "You can't brew as effectively if you aren't comfortable, so I'll be sure to make sure he has a smaller tent for his needs."

"But you have a huge area. How will he..." Harry looked around, confused.

"People prefer different things. He'll have a room in a tent and be rather relieved that he's not out here. I've never worked with Hector Dagworth-Granger, but I'm sure he'll tell us what he needs if he comes."

Potions really were complicated. Part of Harry wanted to ask about Hogwarts, but Callahan continued speaking, "I know one person who would have been jumping at the chance to work on this sort of potion." He sighed and shook his head.

"Who?" Harry asked, curious.

"Hm?" He smiled, a bit sadly, and said, "Lily Potter."

Harry just barely managed to keep working normally. It was a hard job though. "You knew the Potters?"

"I went to school with them. Wasn't exactly on good terms with James." Callahan made a face, "I know he probably grew up to be a good man and that it's rude to speak ill of the dead, but he was..." the man seemed to think for a bit before he shook his head, "Let's just say he was arrogant, rambunctious and, only out of respect for the fact that You-Know-Who killed him, let's not get into details. I knew Lily though, and she was nice. Fiery temper though, but a hell of a potioneer."

"She was a potioneer?" Harry was surprised; he had never known that about his mother. As for the comment about his father... he didn't want to think about that. Snape had always insulted his father and even a man Harry respected was saying James Potter wasn't the man Harry thought? How had his parents ended up together then?

"Oh yes, brilliant at it too. Slughorn, that was our teacher at Hogwarts, he was a biased jerk, but he did somehow seem to know who would go far. She was one of his favorites and he'd constantly brag about her."

"What about you?"

Callahan gave him a strange look, "What about me?"

"Well, you're amazing..."

The man just laughed, "I'm touched, Light, but I'm really considered quite the disgrace as far as Hogwarts graduates go."

Harry felt sick; the man who had taken in his family thought he was a disgrace? The man who his friends he had made over the summer respected, the man who was going out of his way for a group the Ministry did nothing but attempt to put down called himself a _disgrace?_ "Why do you say that?"

"When you attend Hogwarts, you're expected to go into a big career or something similar," Callahan explained. "It's called the best magical school for a reason. I didn't agree with a lot of the views given at the school and so I ended up here. Personally, I'm happier though, so you needn't worry about me. If you care what other people think, you'll never be happy." He smiled, "Besides... I wouldn't have traded being there for you kids for any career or view in the world."

Harry managed to hide his flush and after a while, the two finished.

"Thank you very much, Light," Callahan said, smiling. "I'm going to go rest for a bit before I start the potion. If anyone needs me, just tell them I'll be right in here." He indicated a tent next to the table.

Harry nodded, "Okay. Thanks for the potions lesson."

The man just laughed, "Oh that was nothing. I just hope a decent cauldron is available..." He left and wandered for a bit before he found his friends, who seemed to be staring at... a creek? It might have been, but it was barely a trickle of water now.

"Um... guys?"

They turned, "Hey Light."

"Hey. What... what are you doing?" Harry indicated the creek.

"Jinx had the idea of trying to do an irrigation sort of thing," Dudley said, giving a faint smile. "Make us more self-sufficient, but there's not enough water. And we're more into meat anyway... but even if we raised animals for that, they'd need to eat, so we still need plants. And we need water for ourselves. The lovely Ministry allotted this land for us, but the only water is... this."

A person Harry had never seen before spoke with a thick accent Harry couldn't recognize, "It was one reason we were spread so far, sir. Find another place. Go there."

"And have the Ministry take it from us since we'd be there illegally?" Dudley inquired.

The man grunted, "Get strong, beat them."

"I thought that'd be the general idea," Dudley said, shaking his head.

Harry wondered if this was an old argument and if that was one reason Greyback had been unchallenged for so long.

"Say, Light?" Tweak seemed to be thinking.

"Hm?" Harry glanced over.

"Would... do you think an engorgement charm on this might work?"

Harry blinked; he hadn't thought of that at all. It seemed nobody else had either. He mused for a few seconds before Dudley said, "I think we should wait before deciding that. Maybe dig a bit so nothing floods."

"I hadn't thought of that," Tweak said, looking embarrassed.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. We need water, and that's the best idea I've heard if it works." Dudley smiled, "Just need a place for the extra water to go."

"Still," Grace said glaring at the tiny creek, "this is ridiculous."

Blades was looking around, "Would be easy enough to set up plants if we can get a hold of everything. The hard thing will be keeping it all up and making sure things stay intact. That means getting the administration at the Ministry to get their heads out of their arses."

"Which will never happen," Grace grumbled.

"Oh I'm sure there are people who can influence the Ministry," Jinx said. She seemed as if she were going to say more, but they were distracted by the sound of three loud, sharp CRACKS! "The hell..."

"Somebody Apparated here," Harry said instantly. He realized at that moment that his wand was already in his hand... his left hand. How had he adjusted to that so quickly? Pushing the question away and deciding he'd think more about it later, Harry said slowly, "Bathilda said she'd talk to wizards about help for the potion..."

"I think they'd write ahead to learn about space or call or something," Dudley said, thinking. "I-"

Another werewolf came up to them, "I'm sorry to bother you when I know you're busy with the water problem, but apparently three people are demanding a meeting. They say they're here on behalf of the Dark Lord."

Dudley gave Harry a brief glance, and Harry just gave a very slight nod of his head. He wanted to go with Dudley.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Blades said it softly.

"You're not the only one," Grace murmured back.

Dudley took a few steps forward, "Anyone coming?"

"You know we all are," Tweak said, smirking. "Why'd you even ask?"

"Just checking. All right. Can you do me a favor and get my guardian?" Dudley said this to the werewolf who quickly nodded and left.

They walked and eventually found themselves standing in front of three people not even wearing masks. Harry supposed that wandering around in the daytime with the entire getup was a bad idea. But he recognized them, one in particular.

Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle and _Peter Pettigrew._ It took all of Harry's ability to keep from saying anything or hexing the man into oblivion. Luckily, someone else was around.

"Oh, so you aren't dead. Still hanging onto the hems of the robes of bullies though."

Everyone looked up to see Callahan and Harry managed to, barely, hide his shock though others didn't. Callahan was wearing wizard robes and he looked... different. He didn't have his normal flowing wig and Harry was surprised that he had short-cropped dark brown hair and seemed more...

Formal, Harry supposed, but he was surprised at the difference a simple change in clothes made. Or perhaps it was the reaction of other people-the werewolves had turned to look and were watching as Callahan waved his wand and Dudley sank into a chair he had formed. Callahan stood supportive and obviously protectively behind him and Harry was startled to realize he was standing in a rather similar pose to Dudley's left.

"That's Joshua Goyle," Callahan indicated Mr. Goyle, "that's Oliver Crabbe," and he indicated Mr. Crabbe. "And _he_," the note of distaste obvious, "is Peter Pettigrew."

Pettigrew made a face at him, "Thomas Callahan, I'm surprised you're even able to do magic. The last I heard you were working part time cleaning tables. About all you're good for besides a punching bag."

Part of Harry was surprised; everyone called Callahan by his surname? Then again, 'Callahan' would have been a strange first name, but many others had strange first names in the magical world.

Goyle and Crabbe guffawed but Dudley said quietly, "Insulting my guardian isn't the best way to approach this, don't you agree?"

The chuckles died immediately and Pettigrew glared at Callahan before looking at Dudley, "We went about this the wrong way, I'm sorry. We are here to request your services for the Dark Lord."

"Services?" Dudley raised an eyebrow and Harry heard what sounded like footsteps, like someone wasn't there yet. He glanced from the corner of his eyes and saw Lupin standing in the crowd of werewolves, looking apprehensive.

Pettigrew spoke, "Yes, services. Your... predecessor... left behind quite a legacy. It's obvious that you would be even more... beneficial to the cause than he due to your nature and abilities."

Harry glanced at his cousin, who was thoughtfully looking into the clear blue sky. He seemed to be thinking but Harry was sure it wasn't about this offer. What could it be then? After a few silent seconds, Dudley looked back at the three Death Eaters, sounding more like a leader than Harry had thought, "I presume you know about our attempt to negotiate with the Ministry."

The three nodded.

"Would you be able to fulfill these requests?"

"Why?" Joshua Goyle's grunt was a bit of a surprise.

"We have needs too," Dudley answered.

"That potion represses your better nature," Pettigrew tried.

Dudley's face betrayed none of his thoughts, and he looked up towards the sky once more. "We must have different definitions as to what our better nature is, Mr. Pettigrew." He looked back at them, "My predecessor would often say that the Dark Lord alone among wizards will give us our rights and freedoms." He seemed thoughtful, "If this is the case, then all I ask is, if you truly want our aid... is for your Lord to give us the Dark Mark."

Silence and whispering among the werewolves, and Harry felt numb. What was Dudley doing?

"_What?_" Oliver Crabbe roared.

"Crabbe-" Pettigrew began.

"How dare you! As if he would ever give his mark to filthy half-breeds like you!"

Dudley raised an eyebrow and Harry could hear the other werewolves growling. "Seems the stance is pretty clear here. You're still prejudiced but we're too valuable not to have in the ranks." Dudley glanced around, "All of you heard the true opinion. If you want to work with them, I won't stop you, but it's obvious that they lied to Greyback about giving us our rights and freedoms."

Murmurs of agreement here, and Dudley continued, "However, if anyone would like to give our guests a nice... escort... off our land I will wholeheartedly support it."

Howls and shouts of agreement and the group seemed to move as one to chase the trio of Death Eaters.

One of them shouted, "You're going to meet the same end as your aunt and uncle, boy! Our Lord will destroy you!" Dudley just shook his head, watching the trio run.

"Huh," Grace said, making them turn. "Seems that we had an audience the whole time."

The others turned, seeing a group of utterly stunned Ministry people. Fudge, Madam Bones, Percy Weasley, Amos Diggory, and another man Harry hadn't seen before.

Harry's first thought was that he looked like an old lion. There were streaks of gray in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows, he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp, obvious when he took a few steps holding onto his walking stick. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness, and Harry knew this wasn't someone to toy with. He _did_ know the man looked furious as he stared after the trio of Death Eaters, almost as if he were about to join the werewolves chasing them.

"Rufus, don't," Madam Bones said, placing her hand on his arm.

The man breathed in deeply and nodded. It seemed just in time too, for the three Death Eaters were gone with a loud crack.

Percy looked troubled and surprised, "I thought Ron was only joking..."

"Joking?" Mr. Diggory looked at him.

"He kept saying that our old pet rat Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew. I told him that no decent adult wizard would sleep in the same bed as children." He shook his head, "I have to apologize to him, if he was right. But I never saw Pettigrew's name on the list of animagi and so I just thought Ron might have been having a go at me. He always did emulate Fred and George..."

"It's obvious Peter Pettigrew isn't dead," Madam Bones said, looking disturbed. "Minister, you said that Harry Potter mentioned something about Sirius Black being innocent?"

"I can't take Harry Potter's word at face value," Fudge answered. "I mean no offense to your family," this was said to Dudley. "He's always full of some crackpot story, his tales get taller-he even talks to snakes! He has hallucinations and well, it's hard to take someone like that seriously."

The other man, Rufus, looked as if he was going to hex Fudge off of his feet. He breathed deeply once more before looking at Percy, obviously taking one step at a time. "Your brother, Ron, did he agree with Harry Potter's story about Sirius Black?"

"Yes," Percy answered.

"Ask him if he'd mind coming to the Ministry at his earliest convenience to give a statement."

"Of course he'd agree with Potter, they're best friends-!" Fudge began to protest.

"Minister." The man that Madam Bones had called Rufus was speaking, "We just saw Peter Pettigrew and we all know that unregistered animagi do exist. Have you forgotten so quickly about Castor Devonshire? He was an unregistered fly animagus during-"

"Yes, yes, I know about Devonshire," Fudge said, waving the words away. "Becoming an animagus is difficult, I'm sure there aren't a lot of unregistered animagi."

"We don't know how many there are, seeing as they're _unregistered_, Minister," Madam Bones said. "But if Peter Pettigrew is alive and Percy's brother is correct, that would mean he is an unregistered animagus."

"Which means what?"

"Which means that the Potter boy might have been right about Black," Rufus said. "And if the Potter boy was right about Black then maybe-"

"That's enough about Potter!" Fudge snapped. "We're not here for anything regarding Potter! We're here about the werewolves!"

"Sir, if you want Potter to-" Rufus began.

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Auror Scrimgeour!" Fudge snapped. He whirled and looked right at Dudley, Harry wanting to wince when he saw the glowering look of irritation on the other man's face. He looked as if he were about to hit Fudge with his walking stick. Harry wasn't sure if he'd stare in surprise or cheer if the man did beat Fudge with the stick.

Percy and Amos Diggory were sharing significant looks though, and Harry could see that Madam Bones looked rather disturbed. She was staring at Fudge as if she had never seen him before and Harry noticed her hand was on Rufus Scrimegour's shoulder.

"Put down your wand, boy!" Fudge practically snarled this, and Harry was astonished to realize he was pointing his wand at Fudge once more.

He really was acting more on instinct, wasn't he? He hadn't realized he had reacted to Fudge's attitude until that moment.

"He's doing his job," Madam Bones said quietly. "Aren't you? Protecting your friend from a figure in authority that shows no signs of compromise."

Harry silently nodded.

Scrimgeour looked Harry up and down and a slight smile tugged on his lips, "You'd make a good Auror." He looked back at Dudley and at Fudge, who did not seem to agree. "But there's a time for fighting and a time for speaking. I think this is the latter."

Harry glanced at Dudley, who gave a slight nod.

"Darn," Grace muttered in a very low voice. "I was hoping Light could hex some sense into my dad."

Due to the silence, everyone heard and the Sharks began to chuckle, while Fudge glared even more and the Ministry employees suddenly seemed interested in other things.

"What do you want?" Fudge was looking only at Dudley.

"... I want us to stop being second-class citizens," Dudley said it quietly. "You wouldn't assign land to other people-"

"You lot aren't people," Fudge said, looking tired now.

"Cornelius!" Madam Bones looked furious.

A lot of people seemed to share the viewpoint, looking angry.

"People don't resort to cannibalism once a month, Mr. Dursley. People don't have packs. People- _put down your wand!"_

"No," Harry said, angry. "You're going to shut up and listen whether you like it or not. Werewolves are _beings_, just like us. They have a problem _once a month._ You don't yell at women!"

Madam Bones laughed and put her hand over her mouth to try and cover it, but it was too late due to Fudge glaring at her.

"You don't shunt beings onto horrible land and expect them to be grateful. Greyback was horrible! How can you expect anyone to think he was wrong if you're worse!"

"I am not worse than Greyback!" Fudge roared.

"Yes you are, because you have power and you abuse it!" Harry roared back. "You see the truth but willingly ignore it! Even now you ignore the fact that You-Know-Who is back, that Sirius Black is innocent, that Harry Potter is just as sane as you are, that werewolves are people because you don't _want_ to see!"

"What is your name, boy?" Fudge snapped, glaring.

"Call me Light," Harry snarled. "So that way maybe the darkness you insist on seeing will get lifted a bit."

Fudge had taken out his wand but everyone saw a walking stick cross over it. Rufus Scrimgeour was looking at Harry and Dudley now, and back at Madam Bones. She looked serious once more, "Light, you said?"

"Yes, Madam Bones," Harry said, feeling like an idiot. He had lost it on Fudge. Now what?

"You live up to the name. Your words were quite illuminating." She looked at the others and back at Dudley, "In terms of the law, we have always tried to be equal and fair."

"How? They never told who did what." Rufus said this gruffly.

"I think that was due to a command given by the head," Madam Bones said gently. When Dudley nodded, she said, "The law works for the protection of its citizens. All of them. We can try to stop unjust prosecution and action, but we will need cooperation."

"You will have it," Dudley said, nodding. "We are citizens under the Ministry too, and we will will respect and adhere to its laws, so long as they are deserving of it."

"How dare you!" Fudge said, looking angry once again.

"Try living on this land for two weeks without your wand, Minister." Dudley's voice was soft. "Try living here without your wand and then, before you go to buy food, remember that you can't have a job due to restrictions. Remember that buying a potion that will help you accommodate the restrictions costs too much and requires a person who knows the proper way of brewing and years of training."

"Well, you have something!" Fudge retorted. "And most of you children go to state school and everything, there's no excuse, you have everything you need to exist!"

"We don't simply want to exist, Minister."

"This is ridiculous. You're Potter's cousin, maybe insanity runs in the family..."

Madam Bones stared at Fudge, as did everyone else. Finally, Scrimgeour spoke, "I think we're going to have to do one thing at a time." He looked at Madam Bones, "The people in charge of finding Sirius Black, I'll inform them of our suspicions."

"What do you think you're doing?" Fudge snapped, turning to face them. "He's a criminal!"

"What did he do? If he didn't kill those Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, then he's innocent." Scrimgeour looked at Percy. "Your brother won't mind?"

"He'll probably come in one day with my father, if I ask," Percy said, thinking.

"Excellent." He looked back at Dudley and asked, "Did those three claim to represent You-Know-Who?"

"They said they represented the Dark Lord," Dudley answered. "If the person they're serving is You-Know-Who or someone new, I don't know."

"Then we'll have to question Joshua Goyle and Oliver Crabbe-"

"That is enough!" Fudge said, visibly affronted. "Both of those men are from very old families and have all been cleared! They make donations to excellent-"

"They are still subject to the law, Minister Fudge," Madam Bones said, looking at him sternly. "If you will not let us question them, then we shall have to hold you for obstruction of justice which is, as you know, an impeachable offense."

Fudge looked utterly and completely furious, like a man caught in a corner with nowhere to turn.

"Besides," Scrimgeour said, "If they're really innocent, they've got nothing to worry about, right? I'm sure if they were really under Imperius like they claimed all of those years ago, it wore off."

"They were cleared!" Fudge repeated.

"Well then it'll be interesting to hear why they were in the werewolf settlement, won't it?" Scrimgeour said, a hunter's smile on his face.

"This is a trick!" Fudge said, pointing right at Dudley. "You're in on this with Dumbledore, aren't you? Well, it won't work!"

"What?" Callahan asked, staring at Fudge with a look of disbelief on his face. Harry could see the same look on Dudley. "Where did you pull him from? Asking for better land, access to the Wolfsbane potion and for the people here to have the ability to get jobs without all of the restrictions is something you managed to tie to _Dumbledore?_"

"No!" Fudge said, glaring at him. "The bit about Black being innocent, about You-Know-Who!"

"Because it's true?" Blades asked, staring at the Minister with a look that made it obvious to everyone that he thought he was dealing with an idiot.

"This is ridiculous! All of it! You will be grateful to the Ministry and if you do anything remotely like your predecessor, I will have all of you thrown into Azkaban!" Fudge roared, Apparating away before anyone could say anything.

Madam Bones shared a look with Scrimgeour, who looked grave. Amos Diggory looked a mixture of furious and sad now and said quietly, "Harry Potter has always said that You-that Voldemort murdered my son. If the Minister is in denial, if he will not see the truth, then you know what must be done."

"The Wizengamot is not going to pleased. We haven't had to get rid of a Minister in a long time." Madam Bones looked worried.

Percy did too and he said quietly, "The Senior Undersecretary will agree with the Minister and she'd be next in line..."

Scrimgeour looked at him, utterly grave and serious, "You knew that you were third-in-line for the job when you accepted your position."

"I'm not even twenty-one!" Percy said, eyes wide. "I-!"

"What would you do, right now?" Callahan interrupted, staring only at Percy. "Answer me!"

"I-I..." Percy was obviously thinking quickly, "I'd go to potions masters, find the biggest societies, explain the issue and have the Wolfsbane delivered."

"Why?" Rufus demanded, rounding on Percy as well, who took a step back.

"Because if the werewolves are of sound mind during the full moon they can be held accountable for their actions during it!" He said this quickly, eyes wide as if afraid.

Madam Bones raised an eyebrow, "Why would that matter?"

"What? Why-"

"Answer her!"

"Because then it wouldn't be an allowed excuse! Why are you asking me this?"

"What about Pettigrew?" Amos Diggory asked.

"Do whatever could be done, that's more the Law Department, I'd have to defer to Madam Bones with that." Percy looked nervous and confused. Harry didn't understand why they were harassing him either.

"I think that's what anyone with sense would do," Callahan said softly.

"It is," Madam Bones said.

"Look, sirs, madam-I can't. I'm not eligible for this, I can't run a Ministry! I couldn't even handle my younger brothers as a prefect!" Percy shook his head, "We have to go through a trial anyway, maybe the Minister-"

"We're not saying it's set in stone," Scrimgeour said calmly. "We're just telling you that maybe you shouldn't dismiss it out of hand. To be ready... just in case." He smirked, "You ran an entire department by yourself last year, plus made guest appearances everywhere and had to make quick decisions."

"That was one department and I was only the acting head!" Percy argued. "I'm too young to be the Minister, and it'd be wrong, I wouldn't be voted in by anyone!"

"Nobody contested the appointment of you to your position," Madam Bones answered. "We all knew that it might happen. We always know, it's just rare."

Percy shook his head, obviously not liking this one bit.

"It doesn't matter. Right now we have to return to the Ministry." Madam Bones looked back at them, "Alchemist Callahan, can we trust you with the potions affair?"

"Truth be told, you'd have to thank Bathilda Bagshot if anything happens," Callahan answered. "She spoke to a few people and I've sent a few owls. I will keep the Ministry informed if anything does come from it."

"Send it right to me," Amos said. "I'll make sure things are done right." He looked at Dudley, "I know it's not to your liking right now, but I have a feeling that things will take a while and might even get worse before they get better. We'll be working on it, but you will have to be patient."

Dudley nodded.

"Thank you for your understanding," Percy said to him, giving a shake of his head as he looked at his notes.

"Thank you for coming," Dudley answered, looking at the four of them.

The four nodded and they were gone with four loud cracks.

Grace looked surprised, "Do you really think they can get my dad out of his post?"

"I don't know," Callahan answered truthfully.

"Lex might know," Blades said thoughtfully. "Or maybe Bathilda might."

"I'll ask when I go home for tea," Harry confirmed. "Just remind me before I do."

Blades nodded and suddenly laughed, "Speaking of tea..."

Everyone turned. A woman who looked very much like their friend was walking towards them.

"John, when you say bring lunch, perhaps you should elaborate to bring enough for an army." She looked amused.

"Hi Mrs. Wynn!" The Sharks called out.

"Hey Mum," Blades said, not looking the least embarrassed as he walked over and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Sorry about that, but you usually bring extra."

"Well that I do." She smiled, "Hey Cal. Looking rather fancy."

"Hey Kate," Callahan said simply. "We had visitors, figured that I'd look like the fancy wizard I'm supposed to be."

She rolled her eyes, "I haven't seen you in robes in a long time."

"I guess I'll have to get used to it again." He frowned at the outfit he was wearing. "Haven't worn robes like these since school..."

She just laughed, "I'll walk back with you while the children enjoy lunch. I brought some dittany, like you asked. You really do have quite the stockpile of it. Is essence of dittany really used that much?"

"You'd be surprised. Apparently it's hard to find in shops. I wouldn't know, since I make my own and supply people if I'm asked. Most people I know are capable of finding it."

"Essence of dittany?" Harry asked.

"It helps seal wounds faster," Callahan explained. "If you'd like to see the process, I wouldn't mind."

"And force him to listen to us two old folks chit chat?" Mrs. Wynn asked, looking amused.

"Have fun Light," Dudley said, grinning. "More hands, more potions! We're going to eat lunch."

"Oh you guys suck!" Harry said loudly, as the others laughed and left.

"You can eat your sandwich while I do the prep work," Callahan said, amused. The three walked back to where he was working at, Harry smiling as he listened to them.

"Will you eat the sandwich? You act as if one sandwich would ruin your oh-so-perfect figure."

"I'm fine, honestly. Thank you but I had a big breakfast."

"What, three pieces of toast instead of two? Two cups of tea instead of one? Heaven forbid. And I know you haven't been eating properly because you've been busy. Supplement potions don't count either, before you try it."

Callahan mumbled a half-hearted protest but began to eat a sandwich that Mrs. Wynn had been holding out towards him. They reached the table and both Harry and Callahan finished their sandwiches.

"So... how are you coping, Cal?" Mrs. Wynn looked concerned now. "Besides burying yourself in work, I mean."

"Coping?" Callahan gave a polite look.

"Don't act stupid. Your charge."

A sigh as he showed Harry how to shred the plant properly. "Truthfully, I don't really think about it. I've tried pushing the horrible memories of our school years away."

"Then you'd have hardly any left."

"That's just depressing. And I have quite a few, thank you very much. Just because the Marauders tried really hard to make your statement true means nothing." He made a face as he measured water, "Did you know, they think Black might be innocent."

"Really? Black _not_ trying to kill someone? He dropped how many people on their heads and down the stairs as they were moving?"

"Well, Pettigrew was alive."

"Lovely. More of them. I thought they were gone with the days of Hogwarts. How are they managing to bother us even now?"

Harry looked up, curious. "You didn't like Hogwarts?"

Both Mrs. Wynn and Callahan shared looks of disbelief and began to laugh, "We had good moments."

"But..." Harry didn't understand. From the way they were talking, it was as if they didn't.

"I think we would have been better off if we went somewhere else, is all," Mrs. Wynn said. "Hogwarts... the structure there isn't like the school John goes to. It's very... biased."

"It's biased and people don't want to see it," Callahan said tiredly. "If the Headmaster has favorites, then he'll bend heaven and hell to make them happy. Teachers can try to keep order but he'll just bend the punishments." He shrugged, "I'm not saying anything over the top, I mean, he's human. It's just... it's hard when you're the one suffering because of it."

"From what I heard, your year had it worst."

"Probably," Callahan agreed. "But at least I wasn't a Slytherin." He looked at Light, "Hogwarts has four Houses. People sometimes play favorites due to House."

Harry nodded; he knew that. "What House were you in?"

"Ravenclaw," Callahan answered.

"Slytherin," Mrs. Wynn said, surprising Harry a bit. "Luckily, I wasn't in Cal's year."

"Must we harp on this?" Callahan asked.

"I want you to tell me how you're coping with it."

"I can't blame him for who he's related to. And he's not even related to Potter, he's related to Lily."

"But his cousin is. And Black can't get custody. He's been in prison too long even if he is innocent. That means you're going to be just like Severus and I don't want two people complaining about the past not letting them alone."

"James Potter is dead, Kate, and good riddance. Harry Potter would probably jump out a window if he had to live with me. If by some chance, he does, then I would treat him just as I do my charge." Callahan shrugged, "You know we can't control family."

"... Was James Potter really that bad?" Harry felt sick.

Mrs. Wynn looked furious, her eyes flashing as she said, "He was swine-"

"I do believe it's rude to speak ill of the dead," Callahan said calmly.

"He asked! It's not rude if it's the truth!"

"He was young, and you know most of us do stupid things when we're young."

"Oh that is not true."

"Really?" Callahan looked amused and he winked at Harry, "And who was it that dated Lucius Malfoy for most of her school career?"

Harry looked at her in surprise, unable to help it, "MALFOY?"

Mrs. Wynn rolled her eyes, "Right, judge me. Nobody cared that Potter and Black tried to date anything that moved, oh no, just me dating Lucius." She gave Callahan a strange look, "And what are you talking about? You and Barty were goody two-shoes. It was everyone else that made both of you go through hell."

"Barty?" Harry asked.

"Barty Crouch Junior," Callahan said, shaking his head. "He was one of my best friends even though he was a little younger."

Harry knew who the other man was and he had absolutely no good memories of the man. "You were friends?"

"Yeah. When you needed someone, Barty was there."

"A true Hufflepuff," Mrs. Wynn said, shaking her head sadly. "But Sirius Black..."

"There came a time where he messed up Barty along with Regulus. That was Black's younger brother. Barty didn't believe the punishment was fair and well, when your father works in law enforcement, being fair is ground into you at a young age. He wrote home about it but his mother really couldn't do anything and his father was married to the Ministry." Callahan looked sad, "I think that's what broke him. He and Regulus could have been really badly hurt or even died, but the Marauders called it a prank and Barty..."

"He decided that if nobody else was going to act, then he would. Him and Regulus joined You-Know-Who, we think, because they didn't think they had anywhere else to go." Mrs. Wynn sighed.

"I almost went with them." Callahan's voice was soft and low as he stared at the cauldron and stirred.

"You were young."

"Therefore we shouldn't judge people based on their youth. We know the boys they were but not the men they grew to be."

"I guess you're right. But what if he wants to know?"

"He sees Remus Lupin here. I'll direct him to Lupin."

"That pansy? I suppose it's better than nothing. Though you can tell him that everyone swears Potter used a love potion on Lily."

Harry did a double take. What?

"No he didn't. Lily would've identified a love potion immediately. She probably used one on his stupidity."

"I really thought she would end up with Severus."

"Who could fault you? Everyone did."

Harry couldn't help himself now. "Severus Snape?"

"Yes," both adults said, looking at him.

"Isn't Severus Snape a big potions person too?"

"Yes, I don't know how Dumbledore got his claws into him. He could've been a researcher for the Ministry." Callahan seemed to muse thoughtfully about this for a moment.

"So Snape and Lily Potter were close?"

"Oh yes, extremely, even before Hogwarts if I remember correctly. It's one reason folks thought Potter hated Severus so much. But Potter hated lots of people."

"He hated _anyone _that was different." Mrs. Wynn muttered.

"We're not speaking ill of the dead," Callahan reminded her.

"I know, I know..."

Harry didn't know what to think. _Snape?_ Everyone thought his mother would have ended up with _Snape?_ Why _Snape?_

"Well, take care, both of you," Mrs. Wynn said. "I'm going to go bother my son for a bit."

"Take care Kate, and thank you for the sandwich."

"Thanks Mrs. Wynn."

"Oh, it was nothing. I'm just glad these children have someone responsible around." She gave Callahan a smile and left.

"You've known each other since Hogwarts?" Harry asked, looking at Callahan.

The man nodded, "She's an old friend. Made me rather relieved to realize I wasn't the only one that saw the stupidity of it all."

"The... stupidity?" Harry asked, confused.

"Of being on some bogus team, claiming that there are more important things than just your life. Everyone tells you how you can be a part of something bigger. You could be part of something great, not just another nothing." Callahan shook his head, "They give you a look as if they can open up a whole new world, be a part of something bigger, something important. That's the first step."

"But you don't agree?" Harry asked.

"I thought I did, at first," Callahan said quietly. "But when I thought about it... I realized I didn't want that. That I didn't want to be a part. I guess I'd rather just be one person. On my own, one little nothing."

Harry looked at him, thinking. "Teams?"

"You have to be dark or light, good or bad, it's..." The man shook his head, "The world is bigger than just two teams. It's deeper than black and white. Everything is shades of gray. Like... like Dudley." It was hard for him to say the name, but Harry could understand; he was probably used to saying 'Nick' still. "There is no doubting that his being in charge is good, right? Better than Greyback."

"Yeah," Harry said it without thinking.

"But you're forgetting... he had to kill a man for that position."

Harry looked at the table. He had managed to forget that fact, somehow.

"And then there's the three individuals today. Joshua Goyle and Oliver Crabbe are most definitely Death Eaters, people who have killed and tortured, but they both donated a lot to the state schools. Without them, a lot of the art and music programs would have been cut. They even paid visits to make sure the students actually used and liked the supplies." Callahan shook his head, "People are complex. You can't just have things cut and dry. Life... doesn't work that way. It'd be much more simple if it did, but sadly... it doesn't. Sometimes people that society at large calls 'good' do horrible things and vice versa. I didn't want to be fitted into a wedge. So I stayed on my own."

"But you'd help Dudley."

"Yes. But that's something I would do willingly. I view him as my son. And anyone that would hurt him, to me, is wrong. You're his friend, so you would agree with my point of view. A Death Eater would disagree because he is their enemy. Everyone has reasons for their actions." Callahan finished brewing the essence of dittany. "Well, it's almost time for tea."

Harry glanced at his watch, surprised; yes it was. "I'd better tell the others that I'll be back later. Thanks for showing me about dittany and for the talk."

"Any time, Light. Take care of yourself."

Harry nodded and left, quickly finding his friends and explaining the tea situation. Soon, he was back at Godric's Hollow. "Hey," Lex greeted.

"Hey Lex," Harry replied. "Oh! I have a question for you."

"Sure, what's up?" The bartender looked curious.

"The last Minister to be booted from their position. Any idea?"

"Oh..." Lex thought for a few seconds, "I know the last time was in 1813, but... I remember the book, I'll look it up and let you know next time I see you."

"That will be after tea," Harry informed him.

"I'll have it by then." Lex grinned, "Tell Bathilda hey for me."

"Okay." Harry left the pub and was soon back at Bathilda's house for tea.

"Gellert!" Bathilda smiled at him happily. "You came!"

"Here I am," Harry agreed. He could see where Bathilda had been attempting to make tea and sandwiches. "I'll finish this up, you go relax."

"Oh thank you!" She went to the table and sat down as Harry finished getting everything ready. He smiled; Bathilda had already taken out the tea set she wanted to use, a nice one. He poured it, wondering why he was subjecting himself to this.

He just hoped the headmaster wouldn't realize the truth about him. And if he did that he'd be nice enough to not expose Harry right there.

It was as if him putting the tea on the table was a signal. There was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" Bathilda hurried to the door, Harry with her. She opened it beaming, and Harry bit back a laugh.

Aberforth Dumbledore stood there. "Hi Bathilda. Hey you." This was said to Harry.

"Aberforth?" Bathilda looked around, as if someone else were there but just hiding out of sight, before looking back up at him, "What are you doing here? Where's Albus?"

"He was busy and sent me instead," Aberforth explained.

Now Bathilda looked as dangerous as an elderly lady could look. "Busy? Well... that's nice but I asked _where_."

Harry bit back a laugh at the thundercloud of a face Bathilda had on. Apparently she really liked having pumpkin juice and making sure people she invited for tea were over. Not having those two things seemed to really set her off.

"He's at a meeting," Aberforth answered.

"Well," she patted Aberforth's hand gently. "You boys go enjoy tea." She looked determined now.

"Bathilda?" Harry asked, a bit concerned.

"Oh don't worry Gellert," Bathilda beamed at him, "I'm just going to send Albus a little letter." She ruffled his hair, "You're both good boys, don't fret. And you two need to get to know each other better, you might be related one day!"

"Oh dear God," Harry groaned, turning bright red and putting his head into his hands while Aberforth let out a bark of laughter.

Bathilda practically pushed them into the kitchen and made sure they were both sitting with a sandwich and a cup of tea before she left.

"Sorry," Harry said to Aberforth quietly.

The older man shrugged, "I don't mind. Wanted to talk to you anyway."

"You mean like last night?" Harry made a face. It had been all he could do to shove any cares of Dumbledore's love life from his mind.

Aberforth gave him a neutral look, "It's just funny."

"What is?"

"The irony."

"What?" Now Harry was completely confused.

"Going to do this then? Fine. Harry Potter vanishes and a boy suddenly shows up where his parents died."

Harry paled.

"Not only that, but a boy who is the same age and obviously never went to the cemetery here before because he was deeply affected that first time." Aberforth gave him a long hard stare.

Perhaps the stare was due to the fact that Harry was practically hyperventilating and sweating, as well as being much paler than usual. "I-I have to go-"

"No you don't." Aberforth sipped at his tea, "Stop panicking."

"I'm not... I'm not..." Oh who was he kidding. He was. "You..."

"I'm not going to tell, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't believe you." Harry realized what he said a second too late.

Aberforth chuckled, "I might tell Sirius that I've seen you but that's it. Besides, your protection works too well. Nobody would believe me."

Harry didn't understand, and maybe it showed, because Aberforth said, "You've met Remus Lupin a few times."

"Yes..."

"Werewolves can detect smells, remember them for a long time. Yet yours wasn't the same. Write a letter to Harry Potter, no normal owl can find you." Aberforth shrugged, "You hid all traces of Harry Potter and being with your cousin enforced the blood protection."

"Why does everyone keep bringing them up?" Harry demanded.

"Because those wards are the best possible magical protection you could have," Aberforth answered. "They were at their weakest when you were with your aunt and they were still strong enough so that Voldemort couldn't touch you."

Harry was surprised, "That's why? Those wards? I thought it was because my mother..."

"Who do you think did it?" Aberforth gave a smile, "But blood is only one aspect of it. Lily died because she loved you. Your aunt tolerated you, but felt obligated. The amount of love there was enough for the wards to work at their weakest. Your cousin, on the other hand, obviously cares for you a great deal and it's obviously returned."

"How do you know?" Harry asked, not denying it. He was still worried, yes, but maybe he'd finally get some answers.

"The wards are hiding any way of finding you by any magical methods, including the nose of magical beings. Add that to the fact that you're not as stupid as people claimed, and you can see the issue. You have a disguise and a place. If I didn't frequently visit, I would have been fooled too."

"But how come you... how come you're not saying anything?"

"I don't agree with my brother a lot," Aberforth said it simply. "He's book smart but sometimes he lacks common sense. Why keep you in the dark? He said 'It's for his protection.' Yeah, because keeping people in the dark is helpful. It's why your letter made me laugh."

"You read my letter to Sirius?" Harry exclaimed, horrified. He had only written because Dudley had insisted.

"He read it aloud at the meeting."

"Meeting?"

"It's called the Order of the Phoenix. Albus runs it, a group that opposes Voldemort. It's a complete secret so naturally everybody knows about it."

"I've never heard of it..." Harry said quietly.

"Well that's because everyone was busy trying to keep you out of the loop."

Harry made a face, not liking the reminder of that.

"I do think I should ask what you want to do though."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a busy kid. You're taking care of Bathilda, helping the werewolves, and I'm sure you've got other things you're doing."

Harry nodded.

"September isn't that far away."

Harry sighed, "I don't know. I... It crossed my mind, but I don't know what to do. I can't..."

Aberforth nodded a few times. "I was thinking about it earlier, and I may have a solution for you. Problem is you'll have to tell your godfather and friends about what you're doing."

"Just them?" Harry asked.

"They'll be a necessity in the plan." Aberforth looked tired. "Sirius is a brave, clever, and energetic person, and folks like that don't sit at home in hiding while others are out fighting. I've tried to tell Albus that, but he doesn't want to listen."

Harry looked down, feeling a bit guilty.

"But if he could get out, even if it was disguised, then he'd be doing something."

"What do you mean, get out?"

"Who knows you the best?"

"Ron, Hermione... Sirius..." Harry trailed off.

"Exactly. It's a big house that the Order's in, and Sirius has sometimes sulked for a few days to not be seen. You're disguised now. Why not have him disguised..."

"As Harry Potter?" Harry grasped the plan. "Sirius wouldn't agree to that."

"Yes he would. It helps you. That's all the incentive he'll need." Aberforth took another sandwich, "Your friends will probably point out lots of things and I'm sure they'll want to tell Albus. It's imperative we don't."

"Why?"

"You've seen how the Ministry is acting regarding him and his ties to Harry Potter. Your identity right now is not connected at all to him." Aberforth took a bite of the sandwich and swallowed, "You need that and you know he's human. How stressed do you think this war has him? He'll never show it, but you know how it feels to know things and nobody will listen or believe you."

Harry nodded. He knew that all right. "Polyjuice is needed every one to two hours though."

"Yes. And we'll have to think of a solution for that problem, especially since Albus will be looking out for it." Aberforth thought for a few moments, "But your disguise isn't magical. All we'll need to do is de-age Sirius and do a few other things to make him look like you. Muggles call it 'movie magic,' I believe?"

"Yeah," Harry said, thinking about it. Could this work? "And he'll pose as me? My old wand is at the Dursleys..."

"Would you mind him using it?"

"If it works, I don't mind."

"I'll let them know then," Aberforth said, giving Harry a smile. "You're a good kid, and personally, I think you're doing a damn fine thing here."

Harry blushed. "I..."

"Thanks for the tea. I'll be in touch." With that and a loud crack, Aberforth was gone.

Harry was alone in the house. He finished the tea, cleaned everything up and was getting ready to go back to the werewolf settlement when a tapping at the window made him look over.

A bird that Harry had never seen before was there. He didn't really recognize it, but it did look as if it had flown a far way in a short time. He let it in and set some food and water before it. The bird greedily ate and drank and promptly held out its leg for Harry.

"Er... thanks..." Harry took the blank envelope. It felt very light, lighter than most parchment Harry had seen. He opened the envelope and took out a letter.

He dropped it, his eyes widening at the handwriting. He knew that writing rather well by now, he had been studying it since he had been staying with Bathilda, after all. It was the writing inside the books in the room Harry was staying in, the person whose studies had shown Harry that the deathly hallows were real.

The handwriting of the _real_ Gellert Grindelwald.


	7. Chapter 7

"_Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after._

~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

* * *

**7.**

Harry nervously picked up the parchment from where it had fallen and looked at the bird, which gave him a cheerful little chirp before it began drinking more water.

Swallowing hard, he looked at the first line. No; the letter wasn't for Bathilda.

It was for him.

Someone had gone to the real Gellert Grindelwald and informed the man he was there. But who?

"_Hello young man,  
"If you're reading this particular letter, then you are not a close blood relative of mine, which begs the question of why you would choose me of all people to emulate._

_"If you are one of Voldemort's cronies, I would ask that you not drag my name farther down. I really would appreciate just being remembered for my own mistakes._

_"If you are not one of his cronies, then you have my utmost apologies and you have piqued my curiosity further. If this is the case, then you are welcome to whatever of mine you would like, if you would be willing to fulfill a simple request for me."_

Harry stared at the letter, half expecting it to say something he wouldn't like. He continued to read though, because he was curious as to what this man would like from him, a boy he didn't know.

"_Please write to me. From what I've been told, you're doing everything else I would have requested already. My aunt is tended to, the home is and my notes are well-cared for."_

Write to him?

Harry thought for a few moments. Of course. Grindelwald was in prison. There probably wasn't much to do there. He deserved it, Harry was sure, but from the letter... maybe he regretted his actions, just a little bit.

And Grindelwald had been a dark lord. Talking to him might help Harry a bit. Who else would know what Voldemort was capable of, how Voldemort would work?

"_Ariel, my lovely little friend that nicely flew this letter to you, is a very adept and fast flier with unbelievable stamina and endurance. You needn't worry about long waits for letters if you will do this favor for me. _

"_Thank you. _ _I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. But for caring for my aunt and not ruining my name further, you have my gratitude already, even if you decide you have no desire to be associated with someone such as I. And so again and again, I shall say it: thank you."_

And then the man had just simply signed his name.

Harry read the letter again, but it didn't change.

Why not? He knew how it felt to be shoved away. He wasn't a criminal, and Harry was sure that the man deserved his sentence. But maybe... maybe he could let Grindelwald redeem himself, just a little bit. If his information helped Harry, then maybe history wouldn't only remember the bad things the man had done.

Harry looked at the bird, Ariel. "I only have normal parchment. It's not as light as this. Will you be okay?"

A happy chirp and the bird hopped on the table. Harry smiled and ran upstairs, grabbed a quill and parchment and thought for a few moments before he began to write.

"_Hello Gellert,  
"My name is Harry, but most people around here just call me Light. I must admit, I was really surprised to read a letter from you. Let's just say that one thing led to another and it just went to people confusing me for you. I'm not one of Voldemort's cronies or anything like that._

"_I do work a lot with the werewolves though. We're currently going through a rough patch if you could think of ways to improve a settlement. The biggest issue, besides the lack of employment and rights, is the land. There's a trickle of water that used to be a creek, but it's not much of anything now. Then there will be the issue of food and everything. I know you can't do much from where you are, but we don't even really have many ideas right now besides getting everyone the Wolfsbane Potion and then hoping they can get jobs or something._

"_Bathilda is doing fine. I've been making sure she eats and everything, and the house looks a lot better now."_

Harry debated for a few seconds before he shrugged and decided to tell Gellert that he had read his notes and learned some things about him.

"_I also read your notes about the hallows and everything. I know what you eventually became, but I never learned if you were successful in your hunt. And... I heard about bit about your history with Dumbledore. I didn't mean to pry, but it sort of just was thrown at me. You can say it's none of my business, but I'm curious how you ended up where you are if all of that is true. _

"_Thank you,_

"_Light."_

Harry put this into an envelope and returned to Ariel. "Okay, here you are."

A happy chirp and a nip of his fingers that reminded Harry very much of Hedwig, and Ariel took off. Finally, he was ready to go back to the werewolf settlement. He passed by the pub.

"Hey Lex."

"Hey Light, I've got that information about the Minister."

Harry perked up, "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He looked interested, "The last one was Octavian Beardsley, back in 1813. Nigel Krompf, the then Head of the Department of Magical International Cooperation made the motion and had evidence for it."

"One person has the okay to get rid of a Minister?" Harry didn't understand.

"No," Lex answered. "Any Head of a Department in the Ministry may make accusations of any crime. The member must support the charges with evidence and move for impeachment. If the other Heads carries the motion, the mover receives orders to go to the bar at the Wizengamot and to impeach the accused 'in the name of the Ministry, and all the citizens of the United Kingdom.'"

"So the Wizengamot isn't involved after that?"

"Well, both yes and no. The mover must tell the Wizengamot that the Heads will, in due time, exhibit particular articles against the accused, and make good the same. The Wizengamot then usually selects a committee to draw up the charges and create an 'Article of Impeachment' for each. Once the committee has delivered the articles to the Wizengamot, they set a date for the trial and appoint managers, who act as prosecutors in the trial. The accused may defend by counsel."

"So the Wizengamot doesn't hear it?"

"Not in this, since it'd be too biased. In these cases, if it's not unanimous... that's when the Monarch gets involved."

Harry's eyes widened, "The _Queen?"_

"Yes. If it's not a unanimous agreement by all of the Wizengamot, then the Monarch or someone appointed by them must be the judge." Lex shook his head, "In the case I mentioned, with Minister Beardsley, the Prince Regent heard the case."

"Wow." Harry shook his head.

"They're talking about removing Fudge?" Lex asked, looking concerned.

"Said it was a possibility."

"Wow." Lex shook his head and Harry shrugged.

"Well, let me get going."

"Yeah, take care."

When Harry got there, he looked all around, but noticed he couldn't find any of his friends. It was getting dark, so where could they be? He finally decided to ask Callahan, who was brewing once more. The man was still in his robes, constantly pushing up the sleeves and glaring at them.

"Hey Light."

"Hey," Harry greeted. "Where is everyone?"

The man smiled, "Out at dinner. I would've gone but there's a lot to do here."

Harry felt a bit guilty. Nobody else could really help Callahan, could they? He had said Potions had a subtle magic in it. "None of Bathilda's friends wrote back?"

"Hm? Oh, they'll be here tomorrow," Callahan answered. "A friend of mine was supposed to show up and help me tonight, but I guess he got a bit delayed." He looked around as if said friend would suddenly be there.

"Well, I don't mind helping then," Harry said, shrugging. "Not much else to do til they come back, right?"

"Ah, thank you. We're stuck making a lot of healing potions since there isn't exactly a hospital here." Callahan indicated a long list.

"Dear Lord," Harry said, looking at the long list and the number of potions on it. "They expect you to make all of this?"

"For a group this big, this is nothing," Callahan said quietly.

Harry sighed and began to help prep ingredients and the like. Since it was getting dark, they were inside a rather large tent with what seemed like windows to let out the steam and the like. They worked diligently, Harry groaning as he stirred the dreamless sleep potion he was working on.

"Careful with that, Light," Callahan said over his shoulder. "You're making Dreamless Sleep Potion, not a Draught of Peace. Too much hellebore is not good."

"Unless you want them to sleep permanently," a very familiar voice snarled. "Any dunderhead should be able to know that."

Harry whirled to face the speaker. No, no, and no. Not him. This was worse than Dumbledore!

An extremely familiar tall, thin man with sallow skin and a large, hooked nose stood there. He had shoulder-length, greasy black hair which framed his face in curtains, and wore all black robes.

It was Snape. Professor Snape, the Potions Master of Hogwarts, overall git and hater of Harry.

Apparently he hated everything, from the way he was currently glaring around the tent. "You asked me to come here and everything is haphazard, there's no order, the ingredients are shoddy and there's a brat?" A glare at Harry.

Did Snape just hate Harry no matter what? Was it a 'Hate Harry Potter' sense no matter how he looked? Harry glared back at Snape, who ignored him.

His black robes billowed behind him as he entered the tent and sneered at the long list. "I didn't come to help with potions that any amateur could make. If I had known you had someone, I wouldn't have bothered. Obviously your standards and intelligence have slipped, but mine have not. I am not going to waste my precious free time here."

Harry looked at Callahan, who was quietly dusting himself off. How could he be friends with Snape? It was impossible! The man was just a jerk! The man must have known what Harry was thinking because he just gave Harry a small smile and walked to the still snarling Snape.

"What the hell do you think you're-" Snape began, when Callahan hugged him.

He. Hugged. Snape.

Harry just stared, his eyes wide with undiluted shock and surprise and the knife fell from his hands with a loud clatter on the table.

"Sev." Callahan's voice was soft and low. "Thank you. I really need the help and I know you're horribly busy and stressed."

Harry saw a look of irritation cross Snape's face followed quickly by a look Harry had never seen on Snape's face.

Shame.

Snape hugged Callahan back for a brief second, causing Harry to stare at him, before he let go. "I'm sorry." Snape said it tiredly, looking much older than he had when he had been complaining a few seconds before.

Callahan placed a hand on his shoulder, looking over Snape worriedly, "You haven't eaten." He looked over again, his eyes focusing on the hem of Snape's robes. Harry glanced at them. So there was dirt where Snape's knees were and all over his hem. Who cared? Snape was a greasy git anyway. "And you're trembling."

Harry looked at Callahan. What was he talking about? Snape wasn't trembling.

"I'm fine."

"Light, this is Severus Snape, a friend of mine. Severus, that's Light. Light, can you give me a sandwich from over there." To Snape, Callahan said, "Kate left me some earlier and made me eat to make sure I was taking care of myself. Do I have to do the same to you?"

Harry was surprised when Snape just sighed and sat in a chair, "No," he said, sounding very petulant. Harry swallowed hard and grabbed a sandwich before bringing it to Snape. "Thank you," Snape said quietly. "Sorry about my lovely first impression. Let's just say today wasn't a good day, shall we?"

Harry just nodded and Snape took the sandwich.

"Light, can you hand me the amica root gel, over there? It's labeled. And the Burning Bitterroot Balm."

"Cal, don't-"

"Shut up Severus." Callahan sounded very much like Madam Pomfrey right then and there, and Harry quickly obeyed his orders, curiously looking at the blue potion as he brought them over.

"Cal, stop," Snape said, as Callahan grabbed his left arm. He looked at Harry with alarm in his dark eyes. "The boy-"

"Light won't say anything," Callahan said. "He can keep secrets. I trust him."

Snape gave Harry a look before sighing and relucantly allowing Callahan to lift his left sleeve. Harry hissed softly between his teeth and Callahan glared furiously at Snape's arm and whispered, "That horrible man."

The Dark Mark was bright red and it seemed quite painful, the skin practically blistering around it.

"Are you being summoned?" Callahan asked, his voice deliberately light. Harry recognized it from adults he had seen with children. The voice that tried to make the situation not as grave, not as painful.

"No," Snape said tiredly. "That was earlier. This... this always happens after a meeting. It's part of the spell."

"I thought that might be the case. Your robes..." Callahan sighed. "Thank you Light." He took the potions from Harry.

"Anything else, sir?" Harry asked, watching as Callahan rubbed the amica root gel over the obviously painful area.

Snape flushed and shook his head, while Callahan said quietly, "If you wouldn't mind some of that mess remover, supplement potion and strengthing solution?"

Harry nodded immediately and grabbed the requested items. Now that the man wasn't grousing or snapping at them, it was obvious that he was in pain and tired. "Drink," Callahan said simply, holding the strengthening solution to Snape's lips. "Light, finish rubbing these balms over the affected area."

"Yes sir." Harry complied, for the first time realizing exactly how much pain his teacher had to go through. It was disturbing, the thought that his teacher could be so injured.

And, as he tentatively began to rub the balm onto Snape's skin, he realized that Callahan had been right. Snape _was_ trembling but he wasn't doing it consciously. "What..." Harry began but tried to stop himself from questioning.

"Prolonged exposure to Cruciactus," Callahan said, shaking his head. "It damages the nerves."

Harry remembered Neville's parents and said, "But doesn't that mean he should go insane?"

"Not in short bursts," Callahan answered. "The strengthening solution helps with that, it helps strengthen his cells and nerves, though most idiots in the medicinal field won't try it because we deduced it through Muggle science."

Harry wanted to ask more, but he noticed that Callahan was still administering potions and murmuring very softly to Snape, who seemed to be shaking his head or nodding at times. Probably asking questions that he didn't want Harry to hear.

Which meant they were more personal than just showing Harry the Dark Mark.

Whatever Callahan had just asked, Harry saw Snape give an almost invisible nod of his head and Callahan looked furious. He moved quickly to the table and grabbed a small crystal vial full of an emerald green potion from his handbag. Harry had to bite back an amused smile at the sight of the handbag, but Callahan was gently running a hand over Snape's back before giving him the vial. The man took it wordlessly, but Callahan looked... Harry couldn't really read the expression since it seemed mixed with so many emotions.

What had they just said? Harry didn't know, but he couldn't help but look at the man that he was helping administer first aid to.

This was Snape. _Snape_... the person who hated everyone and everything, right? Except Dumbledore had asked him something that night of the Third Task.

Snape had shown Fudge his Dark Mark. Harry wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together, especially since Aberforth had told him about the Order of the Phoenix. Snape had to be a spy.

And being a spy... must have meant a lot of pain.

Callahan had finished administering the potions and Snape was eating the sandwich with his right hand, not looking at either of them. In fact, he seemed to find the wall quite interesting, his hair a curtain hiding his face from them. He really was ashamed.

"I'm sorry," Snape said quietly. "I'm so sorry, I'm so weak-"

"_You are not weak."_ Callahan said this sharply, furious at the words. "This is not your fault. If I had used my brain, I would have realized that he would have been upset after what happened with his lackeys earlier." He frowned at the robes, "This dirt is old. Severus, where did you go after that?"

Harry saw Snape shut his eyes, pained, and quietly the man almost whimpered, "I had to report."

Callahan narrowed his eyes, obviously furious. "Nobody there noticed? Dumbledore didn't notice that you were in pain? What kind of idiots are you fighting alongside?"

Harry's eyes widened when he noticed that Snape just looked at the ground. His hair was hiding everything now.

This wasn't the proud, arrogant man that Harry was used to seeing. This wasn't the annoying git of Hogwarts. Harry didn't even realize he had placed his hand on Snape's shoulder until the man tried to shrug it away.

"Sev..." Callahan said quietly, putting his hand under Snape's chin and forcing him to look up. "You're among friends. You don't have to hide anything."

After a few seconds Snape took a shuddering breath and mumbled, "He had to know about the envoys, about how officials saw Pettigrew, and he had to act on that knowledge. He left too quickly to notice."

"Don't make excuses for them," Harry said quietly.

How could they have not noticed someone was in pain? How could _Dumbledore_ have missed that, when Harry knew that Dumbledore normally noticed things others didn't?

Snape gave Harry a fleeting shadow of a grin before saying quietly, "I'm all right. Just give me a few moments."

Callahan nodded, obviously not liking it, before he looked at Harry, "Come on, Light. Back to prep work for us."

"Okay," Harry said quietly, part of him still coming to grips with the fact that _Snape,_ evil slimy greasy git Snape... was all too human. He didn't seem at all like the overbearing bat of Hogwarts, the Potions Master that Harry knew. He just seemed like a man in pain right now.

Why did he do this? Why risk his life and go through such pain?

"Anything I can help with, Cal?" Snape inquired.

"You are going to rest for a bit and then you can tackle whatever you want from our list." Callahan indicated the long parchment that Snape had left abandoned on the table.

Snape summoned it to where he was, looked over at it and raised an eyebrow, "Do they expect you to clone yourself or something? How on earth are you supposed to do all of this on your own on such short notice?"

"Magic?" Callahan said, smirking at him and causing Snape to shoot a tired glare.

"Your horrible attempt at humor assaults my hearing and intellect," Snape retorted dryly, causing Harry to try hard to not chuckle. It didn't work of course, and Snape smirked, "Even he agrees."

"Nonsense. He's too young to appreciate the genius that is my humor." Callahan seemed to preen for a moment while Snape rolled his eyes.

"Obviously," He said simply. He looked around, "Mind if I increase the size a tad?"

"Oh please do. I didn't have a chance because the vitamix potion. They tried giving me a pewter cauldron..."

Snape winced and shook his head.

Harry didn't understand, "Is that bad?"

Callahan was distracted, intensely stirring something, and so Snape answered, yawning a bit, "Vitamix potion has to be brewed in a copper cauldron because the vapors are too strong and might knock you unconscious, like the Draught of Living Death." He yawned, showing that he was still recovering, but continued, "Either that or the energizing magic gets too strong and decides to manifest itself as a really bright light. One potioneer in the early 1920s actually was blinded by it."

Harry winced and watched the man wave his wand around the tent. Harry could see the ceiling growing farther away. "Much better," Snape said after a bit, looking quite pleased.

"Being at that school must be hell for you," Callahan said, looking over.

"You have no idea. It's horrible brewing there. If I could have lessons outside at least that might help matters, but no, the creatures that Hagrid has and the students..." Snape shook his head and, after he tied his hair back (causing Harry to almost faint), began to quickly slice some roots, putting the stems aside. He looked at the other parts of the flowers when he grinned. "Oh, this is brilliant. I'm going to use this syringe."

"Go right ahead. Poor students."

Harry was surprised at how efficiently Snape could prepare ingredients despite obviously still having some lingering pain. He watched how fast the man moved even with the Muggle syringe, and with slicing and chopping...

"I think I vent frustration more than I'm aware of," Snape said this as he worked. "I mean, I know I'm strict, I have to be though."

"Well of course, one mistake in potions and the school can go boom," Callahan said simply, also working. Harry felt very much like an amateur. "Why would you worry about that? I'd rather you be strict than be Slughorn."

"One student sees me whenever a boggart is around."

Harry barely managed to not laugh. Snape still remembered what Neville saw? Why did he care?

"Severus..." Callahan looked worriedly at him now.

"I'm fine, nothing I can't handle. Just students and life."

"Just students. They're the future you know. And that's not good for you if they probably think you're some evil old man."

"I am not old, but I _am_ an evil man when I'm there," Snape groused. "You try being in a good mood when you are in a room the size of a water closet with twenty students, half of which don't know difference chopping and slicing let alone the difference between clockwise and counterclockwise, at least two misbehaving when your back is turned and at least one student who thinks they know everything there is to know about brewing a potion even though they don't."

Harry barely managed to hide his surprise. Snape wasn't singling out people or anything, but he did seem miserable nonetheless. The man continued.

"If I didn't memorize the potion ingredients I wouldn't be able to read them with all the smoke and these geniuses, despite my saying 'take notes' all of the time try to _read the board_."

Harry managed to hide a blush. He had done that plenty of times, but Snape moved too fast for them to copy the notes properly! And if he didn't, the Slytherins would take all of the ingredients even if they didn't need them!

"Do you give them enough time for it?" Callahan inquired, raising an eyebrow. "They might think there won't be enough supplies left. I'm sure being stuck in that water closet, as you called it, means you might not exactly be approachable."

"It's common sense that there will be enough supplies there for the students in that class," Snape said, rolling his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked quietly, grateful for Callahan interrupting. "I mean I'm still learning... I mess up a lot. If I'm not thinking, maybe I could go through things..."

Snape mused thoughtfully for a moment, "I usually put enough in so each student could take three or four tries. Though normally I punish them for messing up before they get that far."

"Punish every single student?" Callahan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, the Slytherins I can force to come to remedial potions in the evenings," Snape said. "The other Houses, I don't have that privilege, so I just take off points and give them their punishments in class."

_Because you're a biased git!_ Harry felt like shouting, but he made himself stay calm and asked, "Doesn't that make you look bad? Doesn't Hogwarts have four Houses?"

Snape glanced over, "Yes it does, but I'm not going to go to every House's common room every evening just to take away or give points, let alone chase students for tutoring. I take points off of my House in the evening before curfew so that they all know who lost points and why."

"You don't give points to other students not in your House?" Harry asked, knowing this answer.

"What makes you think that?" Snape inquired, giving Harry a strange look. "Of course I do, I just don't do it vocally."

Callahan looked over, obviously curious, "It doesn't need to be done aloud?"

"Oh heavens no. Most of the staff prefer doing it aloud, but I think that it makes the individual student preen too much, so I do it silently." Snape finished with the ingredient he was prepping and moved to another one.

Snape gave points to the other Houses?

And he took them from Slytherin?

He punished _Slytherin?_

Was this some alternate world?

Harry didn't know what to think. But right now, he just finished what he was doing and moved to the next thing.

The man sighed, "But you're right, I don't like teaching there. And if you want to add insult to injury, it hasn't helped things that for four years, I've had a person in my class that more or less is a constant reminder of the biggest mistakes I have made in my life." Snape slammed the knife into a slug much harder than he had to and hissed, "Damn it."

Callahan looked over, concerned, and sighed. "Severus, the boy doesn't understand what he represents. I offered to take your Gryffindor class for potions, but the Headmaster didn't want them split up and I suspect he didn't want two potions teachers on the payroll. You're better at the art than I am, he's got a point."

"It doesn't help."

"Unfortunately, Harry Potter is not to blame for his existence. Have you tried changing his appearance?"

"I can't do that in the classroom, it'd be noticed. And the boy doesn't learn anything, he's too busy hating me and getting the answers outside of class from his friend. Besides, if I did that Minerva McGonagall would want my head on a platter."

Harry wanted to protest. He did not get all of his answers from Hermione! And Snape had started it! Snape hated him!

"He can't be that bad. He's Lily's son and we both know her and potions were like fish and water."

"The first questions I ever asked him he didn't know the answers to," Snape retorted. "Things his mother knew when we were nine, he looked at me and had no idea what they were. And then he had the nerve to be a smart aleck about it!"

Harry bit his tongue. He hadn't known about the magical world before! Did Snape expect him to have known that?

"Lily's son didn't know basic potions information?" Callahan looked surprised.

Snape made a face, "Of course not. The only thing of his mother that he has are his eyes. And even those are a bit ruined."

"Oh?"

"There are times I look at Potter and want to tell him to get contacts so he can lose those ridiculous glasses that are held together by Muggle scotch tape. If he could do that it would help things on my end. Not much, but perhaps a little."

"Why don't you?" Harry asked, realizing now that nobody at Hogwarts had ever commented on his glasses and he had honestly forgotten about them until this summer.

"Oh God," Snape shook his head, "His Head of House. She even bent the rules for him in his first year just so that her house could beat Slytherin in Quidditch." The man shook his head, looking irritated now, "In that same year, the Headmaster waited three days to reward points and take away the house cup from my students. It might not seem like a big deal to you, since you don't attend Hogwarts, but the students there work very hard for that trophy. And he didn't even give good reason for one. He gave a boy fifty points for a chess game. If he wanted to give those points, it should have been immediately after the events and for more legitimate reasons like risking life and limb to get others to safety!"

Harry wanted to shout that Ron had sacrificed himself in that chess game, to explain, but...

But was this how a lot of the others saw what had happened there?

"Some things never change," Callahan said, looking more sad than angry. "We are not like them, therefore we are wrong. How many children did he lose with that biased act, I wonder?"

Snape growled in frustration, "And I can't do anything to prove otherwise. Hell, I've been there for over a decade and I _still _can't teach Defense because I'm not trusted!"

"The job is jinxed. Half the people who take the job end up dead or worse." It seemed to Harry that this was an old argument.

"I don't care! It's the principle of it!" Snape slammed his hand against the table. "What the hell do we have to _do?"_

"You sound like an angsty teenager." Callahan said simply, looking at him.

"Well then _good_! Let everyone suffer like me! I'm pale and a greasy git and you will all suffer a horrible fate!" Snape brandished the syringe threateningly at them.

Harry started to laugh, unable to help it. Everyone at school did call him that. It was just weird seeing Snape... as a normal person.

"I'm glad one of us is amused," Callahan said, giving Harry a smile.

"What, _he _doesn't have to work at Hogwarts!" Snape gave Harry a mock glare. Harry knew it wasn't a real glare because he had been glared at truthfully by the man many times.

Callahan rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, we ache in sympathy. Now are you going to keep whining or actually start brewing."

"Both?"

"I'd prefer just the latter."

"You're no fun."

They worked in silence for a bit before Harry spoke quietly, "Is Harry Potter like... is he like Dudley? Do you think they'll get along?"

Snape gave Harry a smile, which made him look much younger than Harry was used to, and he said, "You lot really do care for your friends. That's a good thing, don't worry. Dudley has good manners, so I wouldn't worry too much. Potter wouldn't bother him anyway, he'll go to his two friends first."

"He won't care that he's..." Callahan let the sentence trail off, but Snape must have known what he was thinking.

"Potter is a lot of things," Snape said quietly, "but he is not a bigot. He won't care about his cousin's status. In fact, he was quite angry at me for revealing Lupin's condition."

"Who forgets to take the Wolfsbane potion, honestly?" Callahan asked, looking irritated. "He doesn't even realize how far that set people back, does he?"

"And that centaur..." Snape shook his head. "Nobody, including him, was informed that he managed to kill two centaurs in his... condition... and almost bit a group of first years that were serving a detention. It took a lot of negotiations to convince the centaurs that it was an accident and those first years... if Hagrid hadn't been out there, at least one would have died. When we tried to properly get him removed, the Headmaster refused. I wasn't the only one that tried-Filius Flitwick wrote to the Board of Governors. Fortunately, the Board didn't have to get involved. Lupin resigned when he learned students had been told." Snape made a face, "I bet he would have done it if someone had told him what he had done, but nobody wanted to, and I quote, 'hurt his feelings about something he can't control.'"

"That's foolish, he can control it, he was the fool that forgot his potion!" Callahan said, obviously surprised.

Harry felt sickened. He hadn't known all that. He had just thought Snape was being spiteful due to everything. He hadn't known about the centaurs or those first years.

Perhaps Snape misinterpreted Harry's expression because he said, "I wouldn't worry if I were you, Light."

"Is the boy like his father?" Callahan with such a tone of disdain on the last word that Harry almost felt ashamed of having James Potter for a father. He had always been such a source of inspiration and to find out that people really hated him and his friends...

Snape made a slight face, "Unfortunately, they are extremely similar. People will tell you otherwise, I'm sure."

Callahan scoffed, "The same people that thought he was a good person, probably."

"What's he like?" Harry asked, getting a bit irritated.

A sigh, "Not to be sidetracked, are you? Very well. I imagine Potter will make sure to get along with his family. It's obvious the boy needs psychological help and I'm not saying that due to the newspapers. He has a martyr complex and it's obvious to anyone he is not working at his full potential. He was obviously neglected in his youth and he needs treatment."

"... What?" Harry asked, confused. That was the stupidest thing he had heard yet. "Did he tell you about his family?"

Callahan looked at him, "It's obvious by the fact that they didn't want their birth son that they dislike magic. Harry Potter is a famous wizard, so it's fairly easy to presume they did not treat him with love or affection."

Snape nodded, "He never goes home for holidays. But... I think I understand what you're thinking. They never hit him, this is true, but while physical injuries may not be involved, abuse and neglect can have consequences for children, families, and society that last lifetimes, if not generations."

Harry stared at Snape for a few seconds, "What, did you study this stuff?"

The man shrugged and Callahan rolled his eyes, "Severus has extensively studied psychology and chemistry, Light, as well as taken some education courses in Muggle university so that he can teach better."

"Oh..." Harry looked at Snape with new eyes. "So what makes you so sure he's screwed up? Is he crazy like the papers say?"

If Snape said yes, Harry was going to hex him.

"No," Snape shook his head. "That's sheer idiocy and slander. Potter should sue but he won't, of course. The Headmaster won't either so they'll keep doing it. But... It'll show in other ways."

"Enlighten us then," Callahan said, amused.

Snape glared for a second but said, "Neglect is usually discussed in terms of physical, psychological, behavioral, and societal consequences, but honestly, it's impossible to separate them completely. Physical consequences, such as damage to a child's growing brain, can have psychological implications such as cognitive delays or emotional difficulties. Psychological problems often manifest as high-risk behaviors." Snape looked around and saw both of the others were listening intently and he gave a sad shake of his head, "And if there's one thing Potter is absolutely known for, it's high-risk behavior. The only thing I'm really concerned about, if he and his cousin have to live together, is Potter convincing him to do something dangerous, because the boy has an interesting mixture of the hero and martyr complex."

Harry couldn't think of what to say to that. He looked at Callahan, who seemed thoughtful. The three worked on potions a bit more, occasionally speaking about different things. Harry was far slower than the other two, who were able to work on a few potions at a time without much effort. It made him see that both of them were rather talented at the art of Potions and made Harry wonder yet again why Snape couldn't be like this at school.

"Hello?" A voice asked from the flap.

"No bad fumes, you can come in," Callahan said. A second later, Dudley walked in. Harry glanced up from his Wit-Sharpening Potion, which had just turned purple.

"It has to simmer for ten minutes then I have to add some more ginger root," Harry said. "Then I'm good to go."

Dudley nodded and looked at the other two, "Hey Mr. Snape. You look tired." He sounded a bit concerned about the man.

Of course Dudley would know Snape. Callahan had called him a friend. He had probably visited them a few times. Harry wondered what Dudley would think if he knew how Snape normally treated him.

"I'm fine, just some end of summer stress," Snape said. "I'm sure you have quite a bit too."

Dudley just nodded and, ten minutes later, left with Harry after thanking the two. "So how was your tea?" Dudley asked, grinning at Harry.

"You just had to go there," Harry groaned. "Well, he didn't come, sent his brother."

"Seriously? How's Bathilda reacting to that?"

"Said she was going to send him a little letter and then told me and Aberforth to have tea together because we might be related some day," Harry answered, blushing bright red while Dudley roared with laughter.

"Bet you it's going to be a Howler," Dudley said this with an amused look.

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "But..."

"But?"

"But Aberforth said he might know a way that... he might've found a way to keep the act up, even when the summer finishes, so that I can still help and everything."

"Step into my office," Dudley said, indicating the tent and causing Harry to roll his eyes. They were soon in the warded tent and, at the expectant look on Dudley's face, Harry told him what he and Aberforth had discussed.

When he had finished, Dudley looked both interested and worried. "If they can pull it off, that'd be awesome. Do you think it's possible though?"

"Guess we'll find out. Aberforth will fill me in, I think," Harry said, shrugging lightly.

His feigned ease didn't manage to fool his cousin, who just looked at him for a few seconds before he said quietly, "I know you're nervous. Worried they'll be angry?"

"... Yeah," Harry said quietly, sighing. "I mean... I didn't know I could hold a grudge this long, but it's like... it's like part of me wants to stay upset at them and the other part feels bad. I mean... I care about them, I really do, but I _like _being Light. I like being like this, I like being... me, not being judged because of some stupid scar. Sounds dumb, huh?"

"No," Dudley said, giving Harry a smile. "It actually makes a lot of sense to me. I'm not you, but I understand being judged without being known because of something you had no say over."

"Yeah, you would... Sorry, I'm an idiot, I forgot..." Harry shook his head.

"No you're not. The fact that you can forget that... it makes me feel a lot better than you can imagine." Dudley clapped his cousin on the shoulder. "All we can do is wait then. If they try to make you do something you don't want though, I'll make sure they regret it."

It felt weird, hearing family that wanted to support him.

"Except..." Dudley looked a bit nervous.

"Except?"

"Mr. Snape is good at potions... what if he slips your look-alike Veritaserum?"

Harry paled. "Oh man, I didn't even _think_ of that..."

"... So..." His cousin heaved a sigh and said, "So maybe we should tell... tell..."

"Tell...?" Harry indicated for his cousin to continue.

"I don't feel right keeping it from Callahan," Dudley said in a rush. He continued before Harry could say anything, "I know you don't know him well yet, but he took me in when he didn't have to, and I... I trust him. He's... he was the closest thing I had to a parent, ever, and-"

"It's fine," Harry interrupted.

"What?" Dudley looked at Harry, obviously surprised. "Do you... do you mean that, or are you just saying it to shut me up?"

"I seriously mean it," Harry said, nodding. "I mean... my godfather is going to know, and he's supposed to be my guardian. Why can't yours? And everyone keeps saying he might get custody of me. If all he got from us before are lies about who I am, how's he supposed to know? All he knows about me is what he hears in the news and from Snape." Harry made a face.

"You... don't like Mr. Snape?"

"He doesn't like _me,_" Harry corrected. "Is there a way to block Veritaserum?"

"Well, it's not really used for trials because there are a lot of time when people Vanish the potion or turn it into something else, but supposedly some potioneers know of something that blocks its effects." Dudley sighed, "If anyone knows though..."

Harry nodded, "I think we'll tell him after Snape's gone." He felt nervous, "I'm just worried. He apparently didn't like my father very much."

"He doesn't talk about his Hogwarts time with us much," Dudley said, thinking about it. "He's got friends from then, but... I guess he figures the past is the past. Makes sense though, right?"

Harry nodded and paced a bit, still feeling nervous.

"Calm down," Dudley gave him a smile. "I bet he'll react better than you think. He's cool."

"I guess," Harry sighed.

"Didn't have a lot of adults to trust, huh?" Dudley looked sad. "I'm sorry-"

"It's not your fault," Harry said fiercely. "Nobody knew about that changeling. Don't blame yourself. You were lied to most of your life, so you have nothing to apologize for."

"Logically I know, but..." Dudley sighed and slammed his fist against the table, "I still wish I could've done _something..._"

"I wish I could've helped you," Harry said quietly. "Or maybe found you sooner. But..."

"Yeah," Dudley nodded, understanding.

What could they do? The past was the past, and unless Harry could track down a time-turner and fix things without being caught, nothing about it could change. And maybe things were better that way. He knew things beyond a doubt and he could help better now than he could have before he knew anything about magic.

If only Voldemort wasn't back to cause him such worry. Harry knew there was no point in worrying though. Like Hagrid had said when Voldemort had come back in June: "_No good sittin' worryin' abou' it. What's comin' will come, an we'll meet it when it does."_

And so, remembering his friend's words a few months before, Harry wished his cousin a good night and went home to sleep. It took a few hours, because the day kept playing through Harry's mind and he wished he could have said more or learned more. Finally, he managed to get a rather restful night's worth of sleep before being woken up by tapping at the window as the gray light of dawn entered the room.

"Huh?" Harry blinked a few times before yawning and opening the window. He was rather surprised to see Ariel once more. "Wow. He is fast. Um, hold on..."

A chirp and Harry shook his head as he got ready and brought both the bird and letter for him downstairs. He got breakfast ready for himself and Bathilda and got some food and water for Ariel, who seemed to chirp in thanks before devouring the things set aside and Harry opened his letter.

_Hello Light (interesting name of choice there. Are you trying to tell me something?)_

Harry started laughing. He hadn't even realized the implications that the name 'Light' could give a former dark lord. Who would have guessed said person even had a sense of humor?

_Your problem with the settlement is an interesting one. Personally, I would suggest the aguamenti charm. If that is not an option, the next question I have is: must it be a creek? If the people are willing, a few blasting charms would form the foundation for a pond. Stones and the like are quite easy to find and an engorgment charm on the water should allow it to grow and feed into the pond._

Harry blinked. Two suggestions for that... though the aguamenti charm was a pretty advanced spell. Maybe Callahan would know it and show Harry how to do it.

_The food is a different matter. Without water, all you can do is buy it. Though you did say werewolves, and I know that the government in your country has a Werewolf Services branch. I recommend that you convince them to, much like some Muggles do, request government assistance._

He was right. Some people _did_ do that in the Muggle world, and didn't others live in council flats and the like already? And the state schools? Harry felt like an idiot for not even having thought of that.

_I'm glad everything is well regarding the house and the like, and especially Bathilda. She's elderly but I'm sure she's still as sharp as ever._

Especially when it came to pumpkin juice or making sure people attended tea parties... Harry chuckled at the thought and continued reading.

_Ah, the hallows. Both blessing and curse, I will admit. I was successful in finding one hallow. It was taken from me in a rather famous duel. And from that, I know you will gather who has it and which one it was._

Harry sighed. He had been right. The wand was Dumbledore's. Well, at least he didn't have to worry... unless Voldemort got it. That wouldn't be good.

_As for the last bit... much like yourself, I found myself in a situation where things I was not expecting happened. I was a child who got in way too deep and couldn't get back out. I was trapped, just as you are, and I've been trapped ever since. He is as well. Two clever, arrogant boys with a shared obsession and we never realized that we knew nothing. We were fools and lost far more than the hallows were worth for it. Don't make the same mistake if you are going to hunt for them. People mean more than objects, and I'm sure you see the irony that it is me telling you this._

He did regret it. Harry stared at the letter for a long time, stunned. But Voldemort never seemed to regret it, seemed to duel more than once...

Maybe that was why Grindelwald was in prison instead of dead.

But Dumbledore was trapped? What did he mean by that? Dumbledore was well-known and a good headmaster... how could he be trapped by that?

_Incidentally, speaking of Albus, I meant to also ask you about your schooling. I do regret being expelled from school. Although I must ask: how many other people have been expelled and managed to become dark lords? That takes a rather special sort of knowledge and determination, I dare say. Of course, I ended up in prison, so I would suggest attending school and learning. Preferably not dark arts either, they lead to... well, not madness, but definitely a place in history, prison or death. _

Harry just laughed at that, unable to help it. Grindelwald had a sense of humor indeed.

_Be careful where you are. Though people are attempting to make Albus look foolish, I assure you he is not. If he says that Voldemort is back, believe it and do as you will. I will not preach at you, but I will tell you that you've seen history. Learn from it. _

_Thank you for writing and if you do not mind doing so once again, you will make an old man very happy indeed. _

Harry smiled and grabbed parchment from upstairs to write back. He had just put his quill to the paper when a knock sounded on the door.

He groaned but as soon as he opened the front door, he was knocked to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

_Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them. _

~Oscar Wilde

* * *

**8.**

What had knocked him down? Voldemort, discovering where he was? Dumbledore, determined to make sure he wasn't Gellert Grindelwald? A Death Eater or werewolf that was angry? A Ministry official?

No. It wasn't any of the above.

It was worse.

It was a godfather that was in his animagus form. A very heavy animagus form at that, especially when it was sitting upon the chest of a slender teenager that didn't really usually have much weight on him.

"Ahhhhh!" Harry shouted trying to get away but he couldn't because there was a huge black dog on top of him licking his face. Dimly over his screams, Harry could hear Aberforth laughing.

He could also hear Bathilda saying, "Oh Aberforth, what an adorable puppy!"

"Can't... breathe..." Harry gasped.

Perhaps his godfather realized he was causing Harry to turn blue, because he jumped off the teenager's chest and sat. Then he growled and began to bark. He barked a _lot_.

Harry wasn't fluent in Dog language, but he was pretty sure he was being lectured. 'I was so worried! Do you know how worried I was? Why are you in disguise! Why didn't you write!'

Wait, was he making up a lecture for his godfather?

Harry shook his head, feeling a bit foolish, and Sirius growled and barked a few more times at him.

And Harry could imagine the 'Well? What do you have to say for yourself!'

Maybe he was fluent in Dog-ese? Was that even a real language? Well, he could talk to snakes, maybe there were wizards that could talk to dogs...

"Um... sorry?" Harry asked more than said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and standing up as he realized Sirius was still waiting.

It must have been enough because the dog jumped on him once more, knocking him down once more and began licking him frantically again.

"Oof! Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Harry shouted, unable to stop laughing. "I missed you too." He pet his godfather and looked up at Aberforth, who was talking to Bathilda about some kind of bar treat. Perhaps he knew Harry was looking at them, because he looked over.

"Would you mind watching him real fast, Light?" Aberforth inquired. "I wanted to show Bathilda this absolutely delightful recipe I made."

"A honeyed goat cheese tart with pistachio crust, that's what he's saying it is, Gellert!" Bathilda said excitedly.

"That sounds really good, actually," Harry admitted. Sirius seconded this with a bark.

"I left it at the pub. Bathilda, if you wouldn't mind coming with me, since I think bringing that and perhaps some drinks...?" Aberforth held out his arm for her and the elderly woman took it.

"Okay Gellert, take good care of his puppy! We'll be right back!"

"Um... bye!" Harry said, waving as they walked away. When they were out of sight, Sirius practically dragged him by his sleeve into the house. Harry sighed and led the way inside, pulling the shutters and curtains closed so that nobody would see Sirius.

When he turned back around, he saw his godfather and felt rather guilty about having hidden from him.

Sirius did not look good. He had a gaunt, sunken face, waxy skin, long, matted hair and was unshaven. He didn't seem to care about any of that when he enveloped Harry in a rib-crushing hug that made Mrs. Weasley's seem weak. "Harry," he said quietly, hugging him close. "Thank God you're all right."

Harry hugged him back tightly and after a while, Sirius pulled away and looked him up and down before touching his forehead and lifting up the magical headband. He shook his head and just smiled, a smile tinged with sadness and relief before he hugged Harry tightly again.

He pretended to not see the tears of relief in Sirius's eyes. He must have been really worried. But why? He had written and everything!

Perhaps seeing Harry's confusion as to his state, Sirius said, his voice a bit gruff, "Dumbledore... he... he thought you might've been injured, even killed."

"What? Why?" Harry exclaimed, remembering Sirius's letter.

"He said that there was a young man in Godric's Hollow that seemed to be following in the footsteps of dark lords before him. He had inspected the young man's rooms and found Harry's cloak and it had his blood on it, and this young man had a dark object that Dumbledore..." Sirius shook his head, not wanting to think about it.

Harry's eyes widened. He had thought Dumbledore would have seen through his disguise if he had seen the cloak. The thought of the cloak being stolen hadn't even occurred to him; but why would Dumbledore...

Hadn't he learned _anything _so far? Harry almost hit himself on the head.

Dumbledore was only human.

And he had made a mistake. He had seen all of the evidence, yes, but he had, unbelievably, come to the wrong conclusion. He had seen Harry, had seen the signs, and his mind had jumped...

Ah, but Aberforth had told Harry. He had even said that Dumbledore had loved the person Harry looked like right now. Didn't it make sense his mind would jump right to that?

He was only human, and that fact, that simple fact that everyone always seemed to forget, had saved Harry's disguise.

"I... I cut myself brewing potions and the cloak was just the closest piece of material to wipe on that my friend passed over," Harry said, seeing the concern on Sirius's face. "And that object... we found it, looking for some things. We're trying to figure out how to get rid of the dark magic but keep it intact."

"I don't care about that," Sirius said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm just glad you're all right."

Harry smiled at him and looked over the gaunt form form of his godfather. "Do you want something to eat? You... you don't look so good..."

"I was just worried," Sirius said, rubbing his eyes. "And I couldn't do anything, just had to sit tight, utterly useless..." He gave a growl that reminded Harry of his animagus form before sighing.

Harry decided to put a plate of food in front of Sirius anyway, and sure enough, the man seemed to devour it. Harry made him another plate and made himself breakfast before he sat and put the letter from Gellert in his pocket. He would have to respond later. He looked around and noticed Ariel was sleeping on the back of a chair. So she was waiting for him; Harry felt glad.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said, as Harry poured them both some tea. "I should have told you everything from the beginning. I'm your godfather first and everything else second. I'm so, so sorry, Harry."

Why was he so upset? "Sirius, I'm fine, I took care..."

"I thought I lost you."

He said the word as if he really meant it. Lost, like two friends of his had been one Halloween night almost fourteen years ago. Lost, like a brother who had gone to Voldemort and was never seen again...

Lost like a boy who had learned the people he had admired the most hadn't really been nice to others.

The thought made Harry queasy.

Sirius must had been very worried indeed.

Harry looked into his tea, unsure about what to do now that he had Sirius there in front of him. The warm glow that had flared inside him at the sight of his godfather was extinguished as something icy flooded the pit of his stomach. All of a sudden - after yearning to see him for almost the entire summer— he felt he would rather Sirius left him alone.

There was a strained silence for a bit before Sirius spoke again. "You must have been through quite a summer."

"Yes," Harry said quietly. "And I learned a lot." He looked at Sirius now, upset. For nearly five years the thought of his father had been a source of comfort, of inspiration. Whenever someone had told him he was like James, he had glowed with pride inside. And now… now he felt cold and miserable at the thought of him.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and sipped some tea, silent.

Harry didn't know where to begin. Finally he said, "I... I found my cousin. My real one, I mean. I was living with a changeling."

"How _did_ you deduce that fact?" Sirius asked, giving Harry a look of curiosity mixed with worry.

"The dementor attack," Harry said quietly. "My Care of Magical Creatures books mentioned that Muggles cannot see dementors, and even though they might get depressed when near them, they are not fully affected like magical beings are until Kissed." Harry looked at Sirius, " If that were true, how had it affected my supposedly Muggle cousin? I knew how our family felt about magic, so I knew that wasn't right. And well, eventually I stumbled on a entry about changelings. My mind jumped from there and I knew that I had never been safe, so..."

"So you left," Sirius said quietly. "You left even though we all told you to stay."

"Did you know about the changeling?" Harry stared at his godfather. If he said yes...

"No," Sirius answered. "We didn't, and it was one of the reasons we were so worried. We didn't know if it was responsible or if a dementor had caught you or..." Sirius shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Harry nodded, "But Dudley... he's a werewolf."

"Yeah, we know," Sirius said. "We did panic a bit when we learned he was returning to the werewolf pack, but well... Remus seems to adore him, so I figure he must not be a bad kid."

"He's cool," Harry said, nodding. "He lived with someone though, someone that has custody of him. Everyone keeps saying that since you're wanted... even if you're innocent, since you were in prison..." Harry sighed and decided to just say what he was thinking because he didn't really know how long Aberforth and Bathilda would be gone. "Sirius, he lives with Thomas Callahan-"

Harry didn't get to finish since Sirius almost spit out his tea. _"Him!_" He yelped, staring at Harry with a look akin to horror.

"Yes, _him_," Harry said, looking at Sirius. "Everyone keeps saying he might get custody of me, Sirius, but... but he's nice. He took care of Dudley when he didn't have to and-"

"He's as bad as a Death Eater, Harry," Sirius interrupted.

Harry's temper flared, like a snake rising from the grass. Even after everything, they _still_ didn't listen? He spoke, irritated now, "And from what I heard, you and my father were worse than that changeling ever was!"

Silence and Harry noticed his godfather couldn't meet his eyes for a few seconds before he said, "I'm not proud of what we were like when we were younger, Harry. We were arrogant little berks."

"So it's true? You were jerks, bullies, stupid-" Harry began, but Sirius interrupted him.

"If you want to hate anyone from us, then hate me. Your father was a good man, Harry. He gave his life to protect you and your mother. He was loyal to those he cared about and brave enough to fight for what he thought was right. If you want to judge him, remember that too."

Harry looked at the floor, feeling slightly ashamed. His father had done all of that, hadn't he? He didn't understand how things had turned out so weird.

Sirius laid a hand on his shoulder, "If we're any indication though, people change. If he took in your cousin and you trust him, then he probably did too. I might not trust him, but I trust your opinion."

"You might _have_ to trust him," Harry said quietly. "Dudley... he pointed out some stuff we didn't think of. What if someone gives you Veritaserum or your disguise things might not work properly? He knows the most about potions..." Harry let it trail off.

"... If it'll help you, Harry, I'll do whatever it takes."

Harry gave a weak smile but before he could say anything else, they heard the door. Sirius immediately transformed back into a dog and Harry began to open the curtains and shutters, and quickly cleaned up the tea cups. He was putting them away when Aberforth and Bathilda entered, Aberforth holding two large bottles and a box that was wrapped. Harry could smell the tart from where he was and it made his mouth water a bit.

Sirius whimpered and barked; perhaps the tart smelled even better to him?

"You already ate," Aberforth said to him. He simply put his paw over his muzzle and whimpered more. "It's not going to work. You had a huge breakfast."

Bathilda chuckled and put the tart on the table, opening the box. Harry smiled at her gratefully and took a piece for himself... and snagged one for Sirius who barked happily.

"Hey!" Aberforth pouted while Bathilda and Harry laughed. "Well, when you're a fat lump, blame him!"

A few barks were the reply.

"I'm going to go tend the plants! Take care Gellert!" Bathilda gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and wandered to the yard.

"You two alright?" Aberforth asked, looking at Harry and Sirius. Both nodded. "Good. We'll be back in a few days with the others so we can all meet and figure everything out. Anyone in particular you want?"

"Who are you bringing?" Harry asked, curious.

"Us two, Alastor Moody, and basically the younger folks, your friends. Fred and George will be able to think of something to cover up any mistakes Sirius might make. Ron and Hermione know you best and I'm sure that Ginny Weasley will be told anyway so better she gets the full version in front of us."

Sirius gave a quiet growl and barked a few times. They both looked at him.

"Did I forget someone?" Aberforth inquired.

Sirius nodded.

Harry thought for a few seconds, "Oh. Lupin, right?"

Another nod.

"Right, forgot him. Sorry. That's who I'm bringing. And you?"

"I'll be bringing my friends since they know the truth," Harry said. "And my cousin and his guardian."

Sirius looked at the wall and Aberforth nodded, "Would any of them mind being under the Conspirators Hold?"

"... The what?" Harry could tell from the tilt of Sirius's head that he didn't know either.

"It's similar to the Fidelius Charm, but on the darker end of the spectrum," Aberforth explained. "It's called that because people who are conspiring for things tend to use it. Like the Fidelius, it has a Secret-Keeper and only they have the power to reveal the secret; not even those who have been told the secret can reveal what they know. Unlike the Fidelius, it only goes for information. Nobody can reveal who else was involved in the conspiracy but the Secret-Keeper."

"But there's no protection like the Fidelius Charm," Harry said, seeing the differences now. Anyone not in the know would remain that way; they couldn't spread who was involved or what they had done. But the person who could wouldn't be safe; there'd be no safe place for them.

"It's also not bound to the soul like the Fidelius Charm so people can try to force it out with Veritaserum or the Imperius Curse," Aberforth explained. "That's why people like Voldemort never bothered to use it."

"The Fidelius Charm is protected against that?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I don't know," Aberforth said truthfully.

"Well, why would it be on the dark end of the spectrum?" Harry asked.

"Because there are two false Secret-Keepers plus the real one and the only way to make the real Secret-Keeper talk unwillingly is to get rid of the other two first. Then there's the aspect of betrayal. If anyone betrays the others, everyone will know it. The Secret-Keeper will die if they try to betray the group willingly, but everyone involved becomes marked."

"Huh?" Harry stared at Aberforth, "You just said that people can try to force it out with Veritaserum or the Imperius Curse. Now you're saying that there are three people... which is it?"

Aberforth gave him a look before saying, "There is one real Secret-Keeper. The spell also needs two decoys. The way it works is the two decoys have hold of the actual Secret-Keeper's tongue."

"So the person can't betray the group while they're around," Harry confirmed.

"Yes. However, if someone tries using other methods after having deduced or getting lucky and realizing this person is involved in a conspiracy, then the only way they can get actual information out of the Secret-Keeper without killing him is to find and eliminate the decoys."

"So they can get some things out of the Secret-Keeper, but the spell will kill the person before they can get too much out of it," Harry said, still slightly confused.

"Yes. If it helps, think of the Fidelius Charm as protection for the physical world and the Hold is protection for information."

"Makes sense a little." Harry gave a smile and said, "I'm going to go to the settlement after I finish up here. And..." He didn't know what to say. He looked at Sirius, who licked his hand. "Thank you, both of you."

A hand clapped his shoulder, "You don't need all of this mess. Personally, I think that you doing this, you being _yourself_ and to hell with the fame and expectations, that's just what you need. See you soon."

Harry watched the two leave, unable to help the small smile, before he remembered his letter. He pulled it out once more as he went inside. After wondering for a few moments, he thought that it'd be better if he replied after trying some of the solutions at the werewolf settlement.

He left, after speaking to Lex for a bit, and soon found himself at the settlement.

"Hey Light," Jinx said, seeing him as she looked up. A few young children were with her; she had been reading to them. "What's up?"

"Oh, hey," Harry said. "I was just looking for Dudley."

"He's with Callahan," Jinx answered. "They're still trying to solve the water issue."

Harry's insides churned at the thought of the man. He was worried that Callahan was going to be angry at him because of who he was... and he even had his friends keeping secrets now, didn't he?

"Well, I had some ideas for the water problem, so I'll go tell them."

"Cool. See ya!"

Harry walked to the main area and looked into the tent. Callahan and Dudley both looked completely and utterly exhausted. Actually, just Callahan did; Dudley was sleeping on his guardian's shoulder, Callahan having one arm around the now-blond haired boy, as protective and concerned as any parent that Harry had ever seen.

His heart ached. He had just seen Sirius, but it wasn't the same. These two had _memories_, had had time to trust each other without having to hide it. But nobody saw that with Harry... even though he was disguised as Light, he hadn't had a parental influence, had he? He didn't have any adult that he could just relax with. Even with Sirius, Harry had to _worry._ Would anyone see his godfather, would he be reported, was he okay...

The man looked up and gave Harry a smile, "Hey Light." His voice was soft, quiet, obviously not wanting to disturb the boy sleeping.

"Hey," Harry answered back quietly.

Dudley must have heard him despite his low tone, because he woke up. "Er... sorry..." He looked at Callahan and suddenly gave a look that was a mixture of a glare and pout, and Harry tried not to laugh. "You put me to sleep!"

"You needed your rest."

"You said you wouldn't put magic on me!"

"It was for your own good."

Dudley seemed too tired to really argue, and Harry really couldn't blame Callahan.

"Well, sorry for the distraction Light," Callahan said, turning to him with a smile. He looked back at Dudley, "I'm going to be in my nice pretty and utterly _gorgeous _tent."

"... Wait," Harry said, still feeling nervous. He wanted to get this done as quickly as possible, so that if the man hated him...

So that if Callahan hated him, he'd be ready, he'd know to not bother him again.

Dudley seemed to know what he was thinking because he said, "Are you sure? Right now? I didn't mean we had to do it this soon-"

"It'd... I'd... I'd rest easier," Harry admitted.

Callahan raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth between the two boys. Dudley gave Harry a nod of encouragement.

Harry took a deep breath and said, "C-Callahan, I'm..."

The man gave him a worried look and an encouraging smile. It made Harry wonder if that'd still be the case when he knew the truth.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, taking off the magical headband so that Callahan could see the famous scar.

There was silence for a few seconds, before the man nodded, "Is that all?"

"I-Is that all?" Both boys seemed completely and utterly _stunned_. "How-"

"But you hated-I'm... I thought..."

The man ruffled Dudley's hair, "Did you think me so foolish that I wouldn't notice an addition to your friends that day in the flat?"

"... No..." Dudley said quietly.

"When they said that Harry Potter would be drawn to his cousin, and who his cousin was, it wasn't a far leap. You were a new face when the others have been around for years." Callahan chuckled at their surprised faces, "I'm sorry boys, I just had some time to adjust. I'm honored that you both trusted me enough to tell me yourselves though."

Harry blushed, feeling foolish. That was true, wasn't it? "But... but my father..."

"You're not him," Callahan said it softly. "I won't lie and say I worried about that fact. But if Severus is right, you've been through enough already and have shown me that you aren't him. Besides, as I said before, it's rude to speak ill of the dead, especially in front of their only family."

Harry looked down, "I..." How was he supposed to ask this question when the simple acceptance was more than enough for him?

"We were wondering if you'd help us," Dudley said, making Harry wonder if his cousin was psychic. "Light... he wants to stay as Light, instead of the famous Harry Potter, and we need help."

Curiosity was evident as the man looked at Harry.

"I talked about it with someone," Harry said quietly.

"Help? How so?"

"I... I have someone willing to pretend to be me," Harry said. "But it... it'll be basically... it won't just be us. Everyone involved will be under a Conspirators' Hold."

Callahan had a carefully blank look on his face as he looked between both boys. They both looked determined.

"You're my charges," he said quietly. "You speak for me." With that he stood up and paused before leaving, "However... as my charges, I expect you to remember I value my friendships and I won't hurt any of my friends."

_Snape._ Harry understood immediately, "You won't have to. And... and thanks."

"You're a good boy, Light. Maybe good enough to get our dear Spot to get some much needed rest." Callahan turned.

"Oh!" Harry said, remembering. "There's one more thing."

"Hm?"

"The water problem... do you think the aguamenti charm might work?"

Dudley looked at the table and Callahan looked at the ceiling. "I..."

"He tried," Dudley said quietly, looking down. "The ground it... the Ministry..."

"They're full of jerks," Callahan said tiredly. "The ground here is designed for charms of that caliber to not work and so that only 'Ministry-approved' magical spells will work. Supposedly it will discourage use of dark arts."

Harry was furious, "That's idiotic."

"Oh not another one," Dudley groaned. "Don't start shouting about the bigots in the Ministry, not when Grace's dad is going to probably be on trial, please?"

"H-He... what?"

"She mentioned it earlier to us," Callahan said quietly. "Her parents have been fighting more. I sent her to Kate, because she is more gifted with helping a young woman through a time of turmoil and of family difficulties, having been there herself."

"Fighting? But... is it... is it me?" Harry asked quietly.

"Your guilt complex is astonishing," Callahan said with a glare, reminding Harry very much of Snape with it. "This has nothing to do with you. The Ministry has been corrupt for too long now and though Fudge isn't the only one responsible for the mess, he has not helped any. Grace's parents have been having issues long before you were her friend child, and if you distance yourself from her thinking that you're going to help her-"

"It's okay, Callahan!" Dudley interrupted, grabbing his guardian's arm. "He gets it, he gets it. I think he's talking about due to the whole mess with us, with the Changeling and Harry Potter, not him as Light and us."

"Oh." Callahan shook his head, "I'm sorry."

"She said there's been an inquiry at her dad's job and well, he's been a right foul dic-"

"Language."

"... He's been a creep lately because of the crap at work. But it's just an inquiry, nothing big, so it hasn't made the papers or anything."

"Still, I'm surprised Rita Skeeter hasn't jumped on it..."

Harry just grinned, thinking of Hermione. His friend had made sure that cow wouldn't write anything bad about anyone for a little while.

He suddenly realized that it was the first time he had thought of his friend without hurt or anger at her hiding things from him. He felt relieved at that fact.

"Oh... oh..." Harry looked down. "So blasting spells will be banned too?"

"Probably," both Callahan and Dudley said at the same time. "Why?"

"I... the water problem, I thought maybe the aguamenti would work. If not that then maybe a few blasting charms and making a lake could work. An engorgement charm on the water..." Harry let his voice trail off, because his cousin looked a bit excited.

"It could. We don't need charms for an explosion. Exploding fluid should do the trick, right? And enlargement charms are allowed for the tents and all of that." Dudley grinned.

"That should work," Callahan said. "I'll go talk to some associates of mine and see what we can do. Goodness, I miss my comfortable attire... ah well, take care, boys." He smiled and left. The two cousins looked at each other.

"Told you he'd be cool about it," Dudley said, shaking his head. "Him and his makeup, I swear... I didn't even think he had guessed the truth though."

"I guess he's smarter than he lets on," Harry mused. "C'mon, let's go look at our creek."

"Oh goody, trickle of water for all!"

Harry chuckled and walked alongside his cousin. Wow. It felt so _strange_, having the name 'Dudley' connection to someone he cared about and didn't think would hit him. It felt so strange and great, realizing he really had family that accepted him. He had a godfather, a cousin and a guardian... and _friends_. How could one summer have given him so much?

Magic, Harry decided as they walked, was truly awesome.

"Hey guys!"

The Sharks were there, debating about school coming soon and how they were going to help Dudley more. Plus their studies and games and just life in general.

Harry listened to them talk for a bit, amused at the conversation and chiming in when the mention of sports came up. But surprisingly, it was Grace that stopped and just looked over at something.

Everyone turned. At that precise moment a screech owl swooped over to them. Narrowly missing the top of Blade's head, it soared past the trickle of creek, dropped the large parchment envelope it was carrying in its beak at Harry's feet, turned gracefully, the tips of its wings just brushing the top of the nearby trees, then zoomed outside again and off over the forest.

_Mr. Light Porter_

Harry stared in horror; that kind of owl... it was a Ministry owl... he ripped open the envelope and ripped out the letter inside, his heart pounding somewhere in the region of his Adam's apple.

Grace looked worried too, "Ministry's writing to you, Light?"

"Y-Yeah..." Harry swallowed hard and looked at the letter.

_Dear Mr. Porter,_

_As you already know, of course, you are the main ambassador for the Umbra Clan, the largest Werewolf Pack. This post thus allows you to attend any hearing regarding official changes to any part of the Ministry that applies to those that you represent._

_Because you were so pivotal in the charges and the hearing that are coming up regarding the Minister, I was wondering if you would, perhaps, attend alongside me. You have the authority to be there, but truthfully, I do not have a place amongst the older employees and I would very much like your input._

_The hearing will be in three days time at 9am. Please let me know if you will attend._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Percy Weasley_

His friends had read the letter over his shoulder.

"Going?" Tweak inquired curiously.

"I think it'd be good if one of us did," Grace said quietly. "I can hear about it without Mum or anyone being too... too... close."

Jinx held the other girl's hand and Harry noticed how, for a brief second, they reminded him so much of Ginny and Hermione that it hurt. He had been so busy feeling hurt over the summer, hurt and betrayed, that he had been trying to push the good times away. But he couldn't help but look over his new friends and think about how good they'd get along with his other friends. Though his godfather and the man everyone was sure would be Harry's guardian now would probably be another story...

"I think I will go," Harry decided, earning grins from his friends. He found a quill and parchment and wrote back his acceptance and thanked Percy for the invitation. Then he found an owl and sent it off, spending the day with his friends.

He returned to Godric's Hollow, talking to Lex about different things including his invitation to the hearing. Apparently this was basically just something for show and normally didn't go anywhere.

And yet... yet Harry's instincts were screaming otherwise. He told Bathilda about everything regarding the hearing and she looked a bit concerned.

"Usually it's just for show," she confirmed, "but sometimes it isn't." She told Harry a bit about the people who might get the post if Fudge was found incompetent. Harry really didn't like the sound of Dolores Umbridge. He had heard the werewolves complain about her often enough, after all. Judging from what Bathilda knew, she was a right foul piece of work.

Harry thought of the slander he had read in the papers about himself and wondered if Grace's father, if Fudge, had really come up with the idea himself. Grace was usually polite, but direct, when asking something. And Fudge, before all of this, had been nice too. Harry was pretty sure the Death Eaters wouldn't dare to cast the Imperius on the current Minister of Magic; just look at the questions that had come up about Barty Crouch Sr. when he had been under it and that wasn't 'suspicious.'

And yet... yet Grace had said something before, about why her father had wanted the position.

There was the saying that power could corrupt people, wasn't there? But why would Fudge distance so many in the magical community?

"Politics."

"Huh?" Harry blushed, realizing he had spoken aloud and Bathilda had answered him. "What do you mean?"

"He needs funding and wants to look good, wants to come off as aristocratic. Best way to do that is to do what he did, cater to people that aren't always nice."

"But..." Harry didn't understand. "But if so many people know, why doesn't anyone act?"

"Oh Gellert, you know that people can be foolish. It was why you had so many dreams about changing things." The elderly woman smiled, "I don't like the way you wanted to approach it, but things do need to change."

Harry nodded, thinking.

Of all the officials he had heard Bathilda talk about, she didn't really know one... she didn't know Percy Weasley. But Harry remembered how Percy had reacted when he had been at the werewolf settlement. As pompous as he had been in Hogwarts, Percy had been Head Boy and Harry had seen, thanks to his friends and others this summer, that he knew things.

And Harry knew he was detail-oriented.

He had invited Harry with him to the hearing. Wasn't that showing that he was associating himself with the type of wizard that worked alongside werewolves?

Then the important thought came to Harry's mind, just as important as werewolves.

Voldemort.

All of this and there was _still nothing about Voldemort._

The boy felt frustrated for a brief second before shrugging. Later. He'd have to worry about Voldemort later. After he had a disguise. But if Dumbledore had been worried about him, as Light, according to what Sirius had said, then perhaps Voldemort wouldn't link them together either.

Besides, why risk an ambassador to a group that you wanted on your side?

Reassuring himself thusly, Harry returned to his normal ritual for the night. The next morning, he went to the werewolf settlement and found a huge lake there...

And merpeople. How on earth had _they_ gotten there?

"Ministry land," Dudley explained when Harry had asked him. "Apparently they thought that we had 'too much land,' and so they assigned other beings here too, make it crowded. Sorry, beings like centaurs and merfolk and I think goblins. I think it's pretty cool, personally. It'll shut them up when they realize all of us get along just fine, that _they're_ the problem."

"I guess-ah!" He had just been splashed by his friends, who had set up sprinklers.

"C'mon," Dudley said, grinning. "Let's try to have fun for once. Mr. Snape even said he's going to talk to one of his co-workers, get us a bunch of plants and stuff we can grow."

Harry thought of Professor Sprout and smiled. If anyone could help them with growing things, it'd be her. He was so glad that other people saw sense.

Though it still was so weird realizing Snape was human and could be nice! Harry supposed the teachers could see the human side of the evil git of a professor.

That didn't matter. Like his cousin had said, they were going to try and have some fun for once and then... well, then Harry would probably worry about other things sooner rather than later. Though he was interested in the hearing...

It was as he returned to Godric's Hollow that evening that he saw Ariel still waiting patiently for him.

Harry grinned and took out parchment to write to Grindelwald. After all, the lake had been his idea.

_Hey Gellert,_

_Thanks for the suggestions. Right about now, I'm still a bit damp. We have a lake now. And merpeople! Apparently the government is trying to make folks argue for space. Make it crowded so they can claim everyone there is a savage beast. _

_If you're curious, it won't work. My friends have already made plans about it and the other beings have agreed to hold a council or something._

He took the letter out and read through it again.

_The food will be settled because we have water-thanks again for that, seriously, you have no idea how much that helps._

_I'll be attending school with my friends, I believe. I was a late bloomer, so I guess St. Martin's is the best. Honestly, it's still surprising that I'll even be allowed to learn magic!_

Harry still wondered about all of that, but really, it made sense didn't it? People developed differently...

_It sounds like you regret it... like you regret what you did. And I think with the things being how they are, a reminder that people are the most important things... I think it's necessary. _

Because hadn't Fudge forgotten? Hadn't... hadn't so many, even his friends? They had valued information more... Fudge valued his position more... and even Harry was positive he'd be tempted if there was an object that could get rid of Voldemort, that could protect those he loved.

_Thank you for trusting me. I won't tell anyone._

Harry mused for a few moments before deciding... who better to ask about spells he might be uncomfortable about?

_Lastly, have you ever heard of the Conspirator's Hold? I'd like some more information about it, if you don't mind._

_And before you worry, nothing was meant about the Light nickname. If I'm able to use yours, you can use it too. Might give you something to ascend to! Well, maybe not ascend per say but definitely be something good!_

_Thanks and I hope to hear from you soon,_

_Light_

"Here you are, Ariel," Harry said, holding it out to the bird. "Sorry about the time lag."

The bird simply gave him a happy sound and took the letter quickly. Harry grinned and looked out the window as she flew before he went to sleep. Things went normally after that, with Harry being surprised at how utterly efficient the beings at the settlement were and how fast things seemed to move.

Finally, however, it was the day of the hearing.


	9. Chapter 9

_The circumstances of the world are continually changing, and the opinions of man change also; and as government is for the living, and not for the dead, it is the living only that has any right in it._

~Thomas Paine

* * *

**9.**

Harry awoke at half past five the next morning as abruptly and completely as if somebody had yelled in his ear. For a few moments he lay immobile as the prospect of the hearing filled every tiny particle of his brain, then, not wanting to think about what might happen to Grace if her father didn't have a job, he leaped out of bed and put on his disguise before he got into his black trousers, white dress shirt and put on a black tie.

'Can't go wrong with simple black and white. Then you know you match at least right?' That had been what Dudley had said yesterday when Harry had asked what he should wear. Harry had looked around and everyone had seemed to think the reply was logical, so that was what he wore.

He made both Bathilda and himself some breakfast: bacon, eggs, toast and tea.

"Oh Gellert, do be careful today," Bathilda said as she walked him to the door.

"I will be," Harry answered. "I'm going to leave the door unlocked so that Lex can stop by, okay?"

"Oh, he's such a lovely young man, just like you." She gave him a smile and Harry left, looking over the front yard to make sure the house was orderly. That done, he went to the pub and laughed at the grumpy early-morning look Lex gave him.

"Would you mind making sure Bathilda has lunch later? I'm going to probably be at the Ministry all day," Harry explained.

"Oh, sure," Lex agreed easily. "Let me know how it goes."

"Sure," Harry said. He turned to the fireplace and tossed in the Floo Powder, "Ministry of Magic!" He called clearly, stepping through.

He was soon standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board. The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh. On the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.

Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

Someone was waiting for Harry though, looking nervously at the Daily Prophet he held as he did so.

"Hey Percy," Harry said, making him turn and smile, obviously relieved.

"Hey Light," Percy said, looking at his watch and at Harry. "You're early. Did you eat?"

"Yeah, Bathilda and I ate already. Did you?"

Percy nodded, "We can wait in my office, come on." They joined the throng, winding their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases; still others were reading the Daily Prophet while they walked. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:

ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES.

They walked to the lifts and soon were in a small, cluttered, but neat, office. "Junior Undersecretary to the Minister," Harry read on the sign on the door. "So what do you do, exactly?"

"Mainly I feel like an errand boy," Percy admitted. "I act as a Court Scribe sometimes and bring communications to the other departments, things like that. I've offered to do paperwork, there's a huge backlog of it. I almost got into trouble because of that."

"Why?" Harry inquired, curious.

A knock on the door and both of them turned and glanced at their watches. "Hearing doesn't begin yet," Percy murmured, opening the door.

Harry barely managed to bite his tongue. Mr. Weasley, Percy's father, stood there. "The work from last week," he said, not looking at either boy and left before either could comment.

"Er..." Harry tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Percy tightened his grip on the papers, "My... father. Sorry about that." He went to begin working a bit.

"Did something happen?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"We had a fight a few weeks ago," said Percy quietly. "I went home and told my family that I had been promoted."

Harry knew perfectly well that Percy was highly ambitious, but his impression was that Percy had not made a great success of his first job at the Ministry of Magic. Percy had committed the fairly large oversight of failing to notice that his boss was being controlled by Lord Voldemort (not that the Ministry had believed it - they all thought Mr. Crouch had gone mad).

"Really?"

Percy nodded, "Everyone was surprised because I got into a load of trouble about my former supervisor, there was an inquiry and everything. They claimed I ought to have realized was going insane and informed a superior. I got out of the inquiry by proving I had done so."

"You did?" Harry was surprised, "I would've thought you would've liked being in charge.".

"I won't deny that," Percy said, "But there are rules for a reason. I filed the motions and everything with Mr. Crouch's higher ups, which would be the Minister himself. Apparently the backlog of papers is so large that it wasn't seen or found until I showed that I had a copy of the work. And to think, people tease me for being so detail oriented." He gave a wan smile, "After they discovered that I had not only run the department but still did everything by the book, the Minister apologized and offered me this position."

"That's good," Harry said, imagining Mrs. Weasley was happy that one of her sons was in the Ministry. "So what did your family say? A celebration was in order, right?"

"I wish." Percy shook his head. "My father feels that the Minister only wants me in his office because he wants to use me to spy on the family - and Dumbledore."

Harry let out a low whistle and just stared at Percy, who was blinking rapidly and not meeting Harry's eyes. In fact, he seemed to find the ceiling quite interesting.

"Bet you loved that."

Percy laughed in a hollow sort of way. "I'm ashamed now, but I went completely berserk and said things that... well, they're true, but you still don't want to say them."

"... If you don't mind..."

"I said how I've been having to struggle against my father's lousy reputation ever since I joined the Ministry and that he's got no ambition and that's why we've always been... not exactly well-off. I even called him an idiot for running around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that I knew where my loyalty lay and it was with the Ministry."

Harry wanted to have a fit but kept his silence, which was good; it seemed that Percy had been keeping this all bottled up and couldn't stop.

"If Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry I was going to make sure everyone knew I didn't belong to their family any more. And I packed my bags the same night and left. I'm living here in London now."

That made no sense to Harry. "But why on earth would anyone think you were some sort of spy?"

Percy sighed, looking tired, "Dumbledore's name is mud these days, Light. A lot of people think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back. Because of that, the Minister has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks. My father... everyone knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, and they've always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession."

They were silent for a bit before Harry said slowly, "I don't understand something."

"Hm?"

"Your mum and dad wouldn't risk everything without proof."

"They believe Harry Potter," Percy said, looking irritated now. "The only evidence is his word and they believe it even though the newspapers have shown that he isn't what they think."

Harry repressed the urge to complain, remembering the news articles. He had spoken with a few people about this before, after all. "My friends and I talked about it before, the whole thing with You-Know-Who and all of that. We ended up remembering how the Ministry freaked about Sirius Black escaping a few years ago."

"People kept thi-" Percy began but he stopped, realizing what he was going to say.

"Go on," Harry said, giving him a smile. "It's just us here and I'll keep quiet."

"... People kept thinking he would make You-Know-Who return, that he'd try to kill Harry Potter and bring back You-Know-Who." Percy drummed his fingers. "I think I can see where you're going with it. If we thought You-Know-Who was a threat because of one prisoner, why not give Dumbledore benefit of the doubt and at least prepare, just in case?"

Harry nodded.

"I didn't think about it that way," Percy admitted quietly, looking at the ceiling.

"If you want peace, then prepare for war," Harry muttered, looking down. "It sucks but I guess there's a weird truth to it."

"We can worry about it later," Percy muttered. "Right now, it's time for us to head downstairs."

They got off a lift at the Department of Mysteries and they walked up a corridor that was quite different from those above. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor. Harry expected them to go through it, but instead Percy brought him to the left, where there was an opening leading to a flight of steps.

"Down here, the lift doesn't even come down this far."

They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to the one that led to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes.

"Courtroom Ten, I think it is... ah, here we are."

Percy stopped outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock, swallowed hard, turned the heavy iron door handle and, after glancing at Harry who nodded, they stepped inside the courtroom.

Harry gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before. This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures and other people entering the room behind them.

"Light, are you okay?" Percy asked, giving him a worried look.

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling like an idiot. _He_ wasn't on trial here. "Hey, Percy?" He asked this as he looked at the Wizengamot. There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an

elaborately worked silver W on the left-hand side of the chest.

Madam Bones was sitting in the center. On her right was another person, but the person was sitting so far back on the bench that the face was in shadow.

"Hm?" asked Percy as he led the way to the very end of the front bench.

"How are the members of the Wizengamot selected?"

Percy thought for a minute before he finally said, "The selection process... it's a bit unclear, but the Minister has some control over selection or deselection. I do know a lot of the older bloodlines have seats on the Wizengamot too. Why?"

"Just that all the actions against werewolves are passed and sanctioned by the Wizengamot. Figured I can learn more about the source," Harry said, looking around.

The person to the right of Madam Bones leaned forward so that Harry saw her.

_Umbridge_.

That large, pale toad, right down to the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue.

The witch spoke in her usual annoying fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice "I'm sure I must have misunderstood who was allowed here," she said, with a simper that left her big, round eyes as cold as ever. "So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were actually thinking _you _could stay up here." She gave a silvery laugh that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up.

Madam Bones turned at the sound of Umbridge's laugh and saw Harry, sitting politely and quietly next to Percy.

"The boy is allowed here," Madam Bones said simply. "He is an Ambassador."

Umbridge didn't look pleased about that fact, but Harry noticed that Percy seemed relieved. Harry ignored the toad and turned back to Percy, "How long do you think we'll be here?"

"I don't think it will take too long," Percy confirmed. "Trials are usually pretty brief and concise. The accused may present witnesses or have a third-party with legal knowledge speak his behalf of a defendant, but that's rare."

They had been talking in low voices and Harry noticed the courtroom was filling up with more and more people. He felt a little nervous even though he wasn't the one on trial.

Harry glanced over at the mess of people-a ton of reporters were writing, photographers were there, people from the Wizarding Wireless Network were talking into microphones... it was very hectic indeed, and louder than Harry had thought now that he was listening.

"-curious if these charges may have anything to do with the arrests of Mr. Oliver Crabbe or Mr. Joshua Goyle-"

"-some believe this may be related to the slander of Albus Dumbledore-"

Harry looked over to the center of the courtroom; Fudge looked very nervous and alone. Harry could see Mrs. Fudge in the crowd of people, her eyes only on her husband.

He had wanted Fudge taken down a few pegs, yeah, but not... not like this. He felt almost petty now for having wanted revenge.

Harry's attention focused on Madam Bones as the trial began. Percy had been right; they were pretty brief with the summary of the crimes: three counts of obstruction of justice, two counts of slander, one count of extortion, bribery...

Fudge didn't bother to protest the crimes-none of them were worthy of Azkaban, thank goodness for small favors, but they were enough to get him impeached.

The verdict was read before lunch and Madam Bones announced after that Dolores Jane Umbridge would be on the stand next to make sure she was 'qualified for the job of Minister.' Fudge would be impeached, no longer the Minister of Magic, but he would not be put into prison.

Harry was still surprised that the entire Wizengamot had agreed to this unanimously. He had a sinking suspicion that the people up there were mainly sheep and would follow whatever the person they respected most was doing. Madam Bones had voted it so they did.

It made him hope he would never have a trial in front of them.

Percy and Harry ate lunch in Percy's office, neither really looking forward to the afternoon session. Both were eating fish and chips.

"How come magical trials are so much faster than Muggle ones?" Harry asked, biting into a chip.

"Hm..." Percy looked thoughtful, his blue eyes tired behind his horn-rimmed glasses. "Well, you saw that we don't have lawyers like the Muggles do. Tying up the law here is more difficult."

"And the paperwork?" Harry inquired.

"_Accio_ files about the fire-breathing chicken," Percy said, and a folder quickly zoomed into his hand.

"Oh," Harry said, thinking about it. That did eliminate a lot of work of combing through things, didn't it? And without the lawyers that knew laws, with most people knowing the consequences... "You might glare at me, but I really hope Umbridge isn't found eligible."

"And you might glare at me, but I hope she is," Percy said nervously. "If she's not eligible, then..." He looked away.

"I don't understand," Harry said, thinking. "Wouldn't Madam Bones or someone be next?"

"In a time of war, Rufus Scrimgeour would probably be the most popular," Percy said, thinking. "Honestly, if all of the rumors are right... if You-Know-Who is really back and all of that... I'd nominate him. He's the Head of the Aurors, for goodness sakes..."

"So why would you be put in? Isn't the Minister an elected position?"

"Usually," Percy confirmed. "But in cases like this, there's a chain of command. Madam Umbridge would be next in line. After her... it'd be me. It's such a formality that I honestly don't believe that it's ever been done before, to be honest."

"Well, you can claim you think that it's a time of war and get Scrimgeour in," Harry said, shrugging.

"You're not understanding, Light," Percy said, looking nervous. "Right _now_ there isn't a war. The Wizengamot has to go based on _now_ not what I will declare. And right now..." He sighed and put his head in his hands, "I'm being ridiculous."

"I don't think you are," Harry said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think you're just being prepared. But honestly, you can't be worse than some of the Ministers that have been in the past, right? And if you're Minister, you can catch up on that paperwork to make sure other people like you don't get put into inquiries for doing their job right."

Percy gave a weak smile, "I guess so. Paperwork... it will follow me the rest of my life, I think."

"Hey, if I can be an ambassador, you can be Minister."

"Let's not move too fast," Percy said, rolling his eyes. "Though you know... truth be told, I think Fudge looked a little relieved."

"I think so too," Harry admitted. He grinned, "I know Mrs. Fudge definitely did."

"She did. I hope they get brought closer as a family from this." Percy seemed to realize what he said and sighed, "Family..."

"Hey, a family without a black sheep is not a typical family," Harry said helpfully, feeling bad. He had never imagined that, of all the Weasleys, he'd end up hanging out with _Percy._

"And I'm the black sheep?" He gave a rueful smile, "Perhaps that might just where I'm supposed to be. Come on."

The two left his office and returned to Courtroom Ten for the afternoon session. Umbridge was already sitting in the chair when they entered.

Madam Bones looked up at them, obviously not really enjoying herself, and beckoned them over. Percy and Harry approached the bench.

"Percy, I don't want you to panic, but..." They turned, seeing people milling around. A glare from Madam Bones sent the reporters and would-be listeners scurrying away. "Ugh, I hate these kinds of trials..."

Harry could see why. It reminded him very much of Dumbledore's pensieve when he had seen Ludo Bagman's trial.

"I need a pensieve," Harry muttered to himself, thinking about it. He had far too many thoughts in his head, and he could do with one.

Madam Bones heard him and chuckled, "I think they're sold at Moribund's in Knockturn Alley. You'll have to say I sent you, he keeps to himself and won't open to people he doesn't know or weren't sent to him."

Harry was surprised that the Head of Magical Law Enforcement would go to Knockturn Alley. She must have seen the look on his face because she laughed, "It's a place that specialises in objects that have curious and strong magical properties, Light. I won't say I approve of all the businesses there, but Moribund's is decent."

"I'll have to check them out," Harry said thoughtfully, thinking that he might actually get himself a pensieve, if only to keep his thoughts in order and help him out. It certainly seemed to help Dumbledore!

"You don't want me to panic?" Percy said, as pale as milk. Harry reached a steadying hand on Percy's shoulder.

Madam Bones looked around and murmured, "You'll see. Just don't get your hopes up that you'll be passed over. Just thought I'd give you a fair warning."

Harry felt nervous. What crimes, besides being an utter... well, that wasn't a nice word. He'd just settle for toad... what crime besides being a miserable person was Umbridge able to be convicted for? Madam Bones hadn't even looked this worried with Fudge's trial!

"Take a seat boys," Madam Bones said gently. "And we'll begin."

Harry steered Percy to their bench and they sat, Percy looking at Harry worriedly.

Harry, on the other hand, was glaring at one of the reporters that suddenly took an interest in Umbridge. "It's cool, Perce."

"Right..."

"They need unanimous support, remember?" Harry said quietly.

"Let us begin." Madam Bones's voice rang through the entire courtroom and all was silent, a far cry from the noisy room of a few seconds before.

The charges, much to Harry's surprise, were: numerous counts of bribery, three counts of obstruction of justice, two counts of slander, one count of extortion, unlawful use of Ministry resources-

"Hem, hem," Umbridge coughed. "If I may?"

Madam Bones just raised an eyebrow and looked at her.

"Where is the proof of these charges?"

"There are documents of the counts of bribery-"

"Those are campaign documents."

Harry's stomach tightened. He glanced at Percy, who seemed just as surprised. That wasn't how trials were supposed to go, not at all...

"You allege that these bonuses and undocumented trails are in fact, perfectly legal?" Madam Bones asked, looking incredulous.

"Yes," Umbridge said. "There's documents about them and their legality. Here." She produced a folder.

Someone that Harry hadn't seen took the bright pink folder from Umbridge and gave it to Madam Bones, who looked through it intently. "It seems that these are in order though the timing they were given is highly questionable."

Whispers through the crowd and some people looked furious. Harry could hear the whispers about loopholes in the system...

Madam Bones moved on, "The next charge is obstruction of justice-"

"My then-superior had given me an order, Madam Bones, and you did not contest it. Also, it was not obstruction seeing as they are in Azkaban awaiting trial."

Harry's hands clenched into fists. He didn't like this woman at all. If she became the Minister of Magic, Harry was going to seriously contemplate heading to another country.

It went this way until the last count: unlawful use of Ministry resources.

"I see no proof to that accusation," Umbridge simpered.

Silence for a few seconds and Madam Bones turned, looking over at Harry and Percy.

Slowly-oh, ever so slowly- Percy stood, making Harry look at him with surprise. He looked like a child about to take a medicinal potion, like this was something that he knew he had to do but didn't want to.

Only Harry saw the faint tremor pass through his hand.

"The Chair recognizes Percy Ignatius Weasley, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Madam Bones.

Percy nodded and looked at Umbridge. "If it is true that the Dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two Dementors attacked Harry Potter and the creature that had been believed to be his cousin on the second of August then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry ordered the attacks, Madam. The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones, made a request of me to look into the matter more. There are only three people who have authority over the Dementors, Madam... and only one of the three people was at Azkaban that day. And that one person was you, Madam Umbridge."

Whispers broke out and gasps. Umbridge suddenly looked furious and caught off guard.

"I received the paperwork that Mr. Percy Weasley had dropped off to me," Madam Bones said, as Percy sat once more. "You have indeed misused Ministry resources because you were using them in a conspiracy to commit murder!"

There were no more whispers now, only bated silence.

"And _that_, Madam Umbridge, is a crime worthy of Azkaban!" Madam Bones thundered. "You conspired to kill one Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey who currently is missing!"

"I-I-I..." Umbridge had no words but the glares and sudden chains grabbing her spoke volumes. "I am Dolores Umbridge!" said Umbridge in a high-pitched, terrified voice. "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic! You cannot-!"

"Not even the Minister of Magic is above the law Madam Umbridge." Madam Bones looked tired and said, "Take her away to Azkaban. We will reconvene tomorrow to see if Percy Ignatius Weasley is eligible for the post of Minister of Magic."

Harry could see Percy was beyond pale, giving even a ghost competition. Without thinking, he stood between Percy and the various reporters, cameras, and microphones, hearing people trying to get information out of them. Harry managed to drag Percy out of there and get him to a fireplace.

He had acted without thinking, but soon they were both at Godric's Hollow. "Come on," Harry said simply, dragging Percy with him. He had never seen the older boy-no, man, Percy was an adult and everything, but still, Harry had never seen him so flustered and disturbed.

He sat side by side with Percy, their shoulders resting against each other's. Harry knew from the year before that sometimes just knowing that someone was there, not letting you spend that time where you would probably just break down alone, helped.

They watched the sky lighten in mostly silence that night, until they used the floo network to go to Percy's flat after Harry had gotten ready for the day. This time he settled for black trousers and a dark blue dress shirt, looking at himself. He looked presentable and soon, so did Percy, who was looking at himself in midnight blue robes.

"What would happen if I decided to not show?" He asked Harry miserably.

"Then Amelia would've been proven right in sending me," a voice said, making both Harry and Percy jump. Rufus Scrimgeour was standing in the fireplace. He limped over to Percy and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Sometimes the best person to have power is the one that doesn't want it."

"And sometimes the best person is someone who knows what to do with it," Percy retorted, sighing. "I'm not... I'm too young, I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Who does?" Scrimgeour chuckled. "It's all guesswork. You'll figure it out as you go along. Now come on."

"Sir?" Harry noticed the newspaper in the man's other hand. "Is that..."

Percy looked at it and just groaned, covering his face.

Scrimgeour just glanced at it. "Yeah. That's the big thing."

Harry had seen the newspaper's headline and, big as it could possibly be, it said: MINISTER FUDGE AND SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY UMBRIDGE FOUND GUILTY, REMOVED FROM OFFICE-CHARGES INCLUDE CORRUPTION AND CONSPIRACY TO MURDER BOY-WHO-LIVED

"Lovely," Percy said, sighing. "Are you sure I have to go?"

"Yes," both Harry and Scrimgeour said, making Percy slowly nod and soon, the three were in the Ministry. And, all too soon to Harry, they were in Courtroom Ten. Percy looked beyond nervous as he sat in the chair, everyone looking at him. Harry gave him a smile and Percy nervously returned it.

They went over the inquiry from last year and Percy mentioned the multiple times he had reported Mr. Crouch's absences and his concerns-all properly documented. He went through the questions about the department he had worked at, mentioning, to Harry's surprise, that he spoke Gobbledegook, Mermish, and Troll. He had learned the languages during his time at Hogwarts and over the last year.

Silence ensued and Harry just stared at Madam Bones.

"Do you think you are deserving of the position of Minister of Magic, Mr. Weasley?"

"No," Percy said, and Harry could see the hope in his eyes when everyone began to whisper.

"Perhaps I should rephrase," Madam Bones said simply. "Who do you think is qualified for the position?"

"You," Percy said. "Or Rufus, but not me."

Surprised whispers broke out and Madam Bones gave a small, sad smile, "We are unable to take the position, Mr. Weasley. It was a condition we all knew of when you were offered the position."

Percy shook his head, looking like he wanted to deny what was coming, and though Madam Bones's voice was gentle, it did not lessen the blow.

"I ask now if any here disagrees with the appointing of Percy Ignatius Weasley as the new Minister of Magic."

Immediately, Percy raised his hand.

Madam Bones didn't know whether to look amused or sad. She finally said, with a ghost of a grin, "Besides Mr. Weasley, I meant."

Not a sound or movement was heard or made besides Percy looking all around the room, his eyes wide as he realized that nobody was going to object.

Harry didn't understand. He looked around and saw Rufus sitting near him. "Why? He's so young..." Harry didn't understand it.

"Because right now, the office is a joke," Rufus muttered softly. "Fudge and his administration made it look bad, especially with the slander. People don't care and figure that someone like Dumbledore will really have the power." The Head of the Aurors looked irritated and Harry wisely turned back around and said nothing.

Finally, Madam Bones spoke once more. "Then I now present the new Minister of Magic, Percy Ignatius Weasley!"

Cheers and clapping. Percy stood stiffly, pale and obviously stunned despite people having tried preparing him for it.

Harry managed to make his way over to him, and Percy just clung to Harry's shoulder as Harry got him through the crowd, shouting, "No questions, no comments!" Thankfully, Rufus lent him a hand and soon they got Percy to what would be his new office.

And then the new Minister of Magic just sat at his desk and cried.

Harry watched for a few seconds, wishing desperately to help but not having the faintest idea of how exactly to do it. "Come on, lad," Scrimgeour murmured. "Give him some time alone."

The two quietly left, managing to get rid of the remaining reporters and people clamoring to see the new and youngest ever Minister of Magic.

"I'm sure you have people waiting," Scrimgeour said simply. "When he's up to it, I'll get you."

"Thanks."

"Thank you." Scrimgeour looked Harry up and down and chuckled, "You took action when you didn't have to and acted fast. I really do think you'd make quite the Auror."

"With the company I keep?" Harry asked quietly, thinking about the view of his poor cousin and of his new guardian and of Sirius...

"You mean the 'Minister of Magic'?" Scrimgeour made the quote marks with his fingers and then shook his head, "Trust me, after Fudge it's not like he can mess it up much worse. He's only here for a few months, not like he can do much anyway. Stupid chain of command laws regarding peace time."

Harry said nothing for a few seconds-what was he supposed to say? Percy was young and Scrimgeour was right. Except...

Except in one summer he had formed a new identity. His cousin had taken over a huge werewolf clan. Fudge was gone.

Harry had seen first-hand how much could be done in a short amount of time when someone was determined.

Finally he settled for just saying, "Let me know when he comes out, please, if you don't mind sir?"

"I will."

Harry left, hoping that Percy wouldn't do something insane like hurt himself. It was late by the time he left the Ministry, but he had a stop to make while he was still in London.

A bit later, he left Knockturn Alley, looking proudly at the bag with a pensieve inside of it. He then used the fireplace inside of Borgin and Burkes to go to the werewolf settlement.

He entered a whirlwind of celebration.

"What..."

His cousin saw him and ran over, "She's _gone!_ She's in_ Azkaban!_"

Oh, of course. Umbridge! Harry couldn't help but laugh at the amusing reaction. He could see a feast waiting and Blades joined them, "Everyone is here, we all pooled in and had a last minute catering feast! Come on!"

Harry looked around and saw that his friend was right. There were people he had never seen before with his friends... Including one man that looked _very_ much like Mrs. Weasley. He had the same warm brown eyes, the same flaming red hair and he smiled upon seeing Harry. "You must be Light. Harry and Mafalda speak of you often."

Sometimes he forgot that Tweak's name was Harry as well. It really was quite confusing.

"Dad!" Jinx groaned, making the others laugh. "I hate my name," she complained.

"I named you after my aunt," he protested. "It's a good name!"

She just looked at the others, who chuckled. Harry loaded up his plate and relaxed with his friends as the werewolves celebrated the demise of Dolores Umbridge.

Harry returned to Bathilda's with some food for her, utterly exhausted but in a good mood. She was, as most people were, sleeping at the time he returned.

There was a silvery goat waiting for him in the living room, along with Ariel. Harry just stared at them for a second before realizing the goat was a patronus. What...?

"Activated it to go off when you got in," the goat said in Aberforth's voice. "Sorry about the last minute, but it's better to throw people off. If you can meet us tomorrow around noon at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, that'd be good. If not, let me know."

Harry groaned and quickly returned to the settlement, telling his friends and getting the okay. He returned to Godric's Hollow and took the letter from Ariel, deciding to read it in the morning but he was woken up by Callahan the next day.

"Wake up kid," Callahan said, shaking him. "The others are all at Hogsmeade."

"What are you..." Harry yawned. "How..."

"Bathilda let me in," Callahan said, chuckling. "It's quarter to twelve-"

"WHAT?" Harry yelped, getting up and racing to get ready. He realized he was still holding the letter he had received last night. He put it on the bed.

"Can't Apparate, right?" Callahan seemed to be fighting not to laugh as Harry ran around like a chicken without a head.

"No," said Harry, throwing on a t-shirt. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"

"You do," said Callahan. "So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly." He smiled as what he said sunk into Harry's head.

"Oh... side-along Apparation." Harry felt a bit nervous, "I've never... I've never done it before."

"No time like the present then," Callahan said. "One more thing." He looked over at the dark object that Harry and the others had found, and at Harry's cloak. "That thing is giving off a way dark vibe. Maybe one of the others could help?"

"Oh yeah, Professor Lupin was the best Defense teacher I had, and Moody was an Auror, one of them might know... thanks." Harry wrapped the ring in his Invisibility Cloak, knowing that his friends would be more inclined to believe he really was himself if he had it. He stared in surprise at the two objects and just shook his head. Two items from a legend were in his hands.

Harry took the letter from his bed as well, hoping that his request about information regarding the Conspirator's Hold had been answered. He looked at Callahan.

"Ready?" the man asked.

Harry nodded and gripped the proffered forearm.

"Very good," Callahan said. "Bathilda, dear, we're Apparating!"

"Be careful!" she called back.

Callahan looked at Harry, "Well, here we go."

Harry felt Callahan's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip; the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull and then —

He gulped great lungfuls of warm summer air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realized that Godric's Hollow had vanished. He and Callahan were now standing outside a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood on to the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they stood there.

His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.

"Are you all right?" Callahan inquired, looking down at him solicitously. "The sensation does take some getting used to."

"I'm fine," said Harry, rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Bathilda's house rather reluctantly. "But I think I might prefer brooms…"

Callahan smiled and said, "This way." He indicated the building in front of them.

"Callahan?"

"Just Cal is fine, Light."

"Oh... er, Cal? Why couldn't we just Apparate directly in?"

"Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door," Callahan explained. "Courtesy dictates that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us entry. In any case, most Wizarding dwellings are magically protected from unwanted Apparators. Now in we get." He opened the door and Harry entered.

It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Harry stepped on to it he realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

And then he saw everyone sitting around, looking at each other.

"That's the bloke that was with Percy!" Two voices, Fred and George, exclaimed simultaneously.

"Still think that was the end of the world, don't you?" George asked. "Percy as the Minister of Magic, Merlin save us all."

"I personally felt that it's just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe one of the _signs_ of the end of the world. Has to be something else. I'll bet you he'll claim that horrible singing of his is him talking Mermish."

"Harry?" another voice exclaimed, obviously shocked. "But you're the boy that's in Diagon Alley sometimes!"

Harry turned and saw Fred and George Weasley gaping at him, Hermione staring at him.

"Hey guys," he managed to say before Hermione ran and hugged him tightly.

"Harry! Oh Harry, we were so worried!"

"Let him breathe Hermione!" Ron said, running over and looking Harry up and down. Harry winked and lifted up the magical headband. "Merlin's beard, mate! I never thought of that!"

"I don't believe Harry pulled one over on _us!_" Fred complained.

Harry took in everyone around the room as they talked. He felt a warm glow inside; these were the people he trusted the most, his friends and... and his _family_. He watched as Sirius talked with Lupin and Dudley about something, heard Grace, Ginny and Jinx debating something about some band they liked and they soon called Hermione back to the conversation. After hugging Harry again, she returned to the other girls. The twins, joined by Ron, were talking to Blades and Tweak, all about pranks and funny stories and Harry watched Callahan walk to Aberforth and Moody and begin talking.

This was what he had wanted, had hoped, that they'd get along. And they did. Harry waited for a brief second before remembering his letter. He took it out and sat quietly.

_Hello again Light,_

_If you're damp even now, I highly suggest that you get thine self to a Healer immediately._

Harry chuckled, unable to help it.

_I'm glad to hear that the beings are getting along. If that's one thing I don't miss, it's trying to make beings do just that. Though I must say, I like the council and peaceful approach better. Bonding over that instead of crimes is much better._

Yes, Harry agreed with that. Though thinking about it, having an army like most Dark Lords did probably meant a lot of recruitment. He had seen that first hand with the werewolves. Harry had never wondered how they would keep them in-line.

_Regret... I have oceans of it without you joining me, young one. Your question makes me wonder who you are considering hiding from. I have said before I will not judge-how can I, when you know what I have done in my past? And so I will answer your question while reminding you to be cautious since other paths can lead to the dark._

_The Conspirator's Hold... it is one of the things I was known for in my more... rebellious days. Albus and I invented it._

Harry's eyes widened. Dumbledore had helped make this spell?

_In its original form, death was not needed to ensure secrecy. I added that onto the spell, which is the one that everyone knows now. I have always believed that magic depends on intent, and though I still do believe that, I shall not bore you with rambling on about it. It's enough that you're willing to write to a foolish old man._

_I shall say that if your intentions are for no one to die, make sure you state it in the oath. Though be warned if you do that, all that someone trying to break your conspiracy will have to do is determine who the two Secret Keepers are before approaching the actual one. _

Always believed that magic depended on intent? Harry wondered what that meant and knew he'd ask more about it in his next letter. He had never heard of that before.

_Thank you for the nickname offer, but I will stick with my normal name. It's already enough that we look alike, if we have the same names then we'll really concern people, although I won't mind anyone thinking I look younger than my years... though I think you might pout at being called an old man, even if the old man in question is my brilliant, gorgeous and oh-so-humble self._

Harry just laughed, unable to help it.

_I'm glad you will be attending a school, though I'm puzzled as to why it's not Hogwarts. My secondary school accepted late bloomers, we just had specific courses for them to catch up. Doesn't Hogwarts have such a program?_

_Well, take care and write more soon._

He had signed his name and Harry had finished reading just in time because Aberforth spoke, "All ready?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, putting the letter in his pocket. "I was just checking if the Conspirator's Hold has to require death and the source said it doesn't, that it depends on the magic's intent."

Aberforth thought for a minute before cursing, "I forgot about that. Stupid intentions... all right, that makes our lives a little easier at least. Dummy up people!"

Everyone gave him a _look_ and grew silent. "So who are the Secret Keepers?" Harry asked into the silence.

"Aberforth is going to be the main one," Moody answered from the bar and his drink, which had a light blue mist extruding from his hip flask. "I'm going to be one of the red herrings. We figure people won't expect that."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"The other person-"

"I want to be it," Dudley said quietly, making everyone look at him.

"No," Callahan said immediately. "With this spell-"

"It doesn't have to kill," Aberforth said. "The intent-"

"No," the man repeated, looking stubborn. "You have enough to worry about and there's the potential threat of your body not having the magic to sustain it and your transformations."

Dudley looked at the ground and everyone looked like they wanted to protest, but Callahan was right. Harry noticed Lupin and Sirius were both staring at him with obvious surprise.

"I didn't think of that..." Dudley muttered.

Callahan just placed a hand on Dudley's shoulder and Harry went to his cousin. "Cuz, you've done more than your fair share," Harry said easily. "Let someone else get a go."

"You're my family, Light," Dudley said it quietly, looking at him. "My cousin. My pack. My blood. Nothing is more than my fair share."

Harry just hugged him, no words able to express his gratitude at the simple acceptance.

"... I'll do it," Ginny said quietly.

Everyone looked at her.

"What? You've lost your mind, that's-" Ron began hotly.

"Ginny and I were talking about different things," Sirius said quietly, making everyone look at him. "We thought, if Harry is fine with his normal self being associated with her, that she would supposedly date him."

Harry blushed and said hotly, "Discussing my love life?"

Sirius turned red and everyone looked away, nobody saying anything.

Finally, to Harry's surprise, it was Callahan that said simply, "If he's going to be you, that is a concern. You're a rebel right now, the Boy-Who-Lived, and some people will be drawn to that. The same applies for any person you may have been interested in before. If you had a clandestine affair-"

Hermione and Ron laughed, "_Harry?_"

"You'd be surprised," Callahan said with the air of someone that seemed to know from experience.

Dudley picked up on that and immediately asked, "Who did you have a clandestine affair with?"

"Never you mind," came the retort.

"Oh please don't tell me it was my mum," Blades groaned, putting his head on the table. "I'd never live it down..."

"It's not."

Harry made a horrified face, "It's not SNAPE is it?" Sure the man was human and everything, and had been okay to Harry when disguised, but it was still _Snape! _He just couldn't live with it if his guardian and _Snape_... no, no, and NO!

Sirius made the same face of horror and looked at Callahan, who looked just as stunned, "Good Lord no! Will you people stop being so nosy?"

"But we're curious!" Grace said, thinking. "C'mon, you're among friends! Is it my mum? Dad did ignore her for a while, you never know."

"No," Callahan said through gritted teeth. "It was not." The _look_ that Callahan gave them was so stern that they couldn't help but laugh.

"If you lot are finished bothering the poor man," Lupin interrupted. "Ginny, this is too risky even without the death clause. Your mother-"

"Will understand that sometimes we have to take risks," Ginny interrupted. "Nobody would expect me. Ron and Hermione maybe, but me? And who'd expect you adults to go with it? It's the perfect solution!"

"But what if we screw up the spell?" Moody argued back. "We can't put your life at risk, missy."

"That's just it though," Ginny retorted hotly. "It's _my_ life, isn't it? What's the difference if a Death Eater or Voldemort kills you or me or this when both are very possible ways to go?"

Moody looked as if he were about to argue, but Aberforth said, "Fine."

"FINE?" The twins and Ron demanded, looking at him with fury.

"Yes," the man answered. "You're upset at the Order for keeping you out of things but at least you've got people to rely on. If Sirius is going to play the role of Harry and he has a girlfriend, people won't be surprised they spend so much time alone. That will take some of the stress away, seeing as the people Harry will be with the most will know it's not him. And as Ginny said, nobody will be expecting us to use her as one of the Secret Keepers."

Harry looked at her and she gave him a grin. "Thank you," Harry said quietly. He looked at Aberforth, "But we still don't know how he's going to disguise himself as me..."

Aberforth looked at Moody, who said, "It's... well, we're going to use an old, _old_ technique. Muggle world's got something like it, I think, basically called witness protection. Well, this is a bit like that." Perhaps the ex-Auror saw the confusion on Harry's face because he said, "Think of it as a temporary blood clone."

"Isn't that like the Polyjuice Potion then?" Dudley asked, looking concerned.

Moody shook his head, "It's similar to a blood adoption. When we used it, the family that the person was hiding with would all give a bit of their blood and the person would have their looks blended together. Sirius will look like a clone because Harry's blood will be the only blood present. Like I said, it's an old technique, nobody really uses it much anymore."

Harry nodded, "So the disguise will... need some of my blood?"

"Only if you're willing to give it, a prick of your finger should be fine."

Harry clearly remembered the _last_ time someone had used his blood for a spell. It was a far cry from this, and he nodded and soon his blood was dripping into a little odd potion. "Here you go, Sirius."

Sirius looked at it and made a face before taking a drink. And as everyone watched, he changed into a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His robes changed as well, into a different outfit: jeans that were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers. Sirius lifted the fringe of jet-black hair over his forehead and felt it, but Harry could see the lightning bolt scar.

He took off the glasses and squinted, "Harry, your eyesight really is awful."

Wow. Even his _voice..._

"That's freaky," Ron whispered in awe. "Whoa... Sirius-"

"You can't call him that," Harry said, realizing this.

Sirius made a face, which was quite disturbing to Harry since it seemed that his reflection made it. "That's going to be weird, people calling me Harry and remembering to respond."

"Moody, when does this fade?" Lupin asked, looking back and forth between Harry and Sirius with obvious shock.

"Honestly, whenever we do this," and Moody indicated everyone in the room, "again."

"Witness protection," Tweak muttered. "All of us gathering like this again is unlikely unless we plan for it."

"Exactly," Moody said, giving him a grin. "All right. Let's do what we came here for."

Everyone nodded, Harry looking at Sirius, "Where are you going to tell them you were?"

"Forest of Dean," Hermione supplied. "My parents are camping there again, so they'll write to me saying they ran into Harry."

"They'll be using Hedwig," Sirius said, forestalling the next question.

"Is that all?" Aberforth asked, looking over everyone.

Everyone nodded, including Harry.

Well, except for one person.

"No. Light, your things." Callahan reminded him.

"Oh right!" Harry went to his cloak and took out the ring. Everyone raised an eyebrow at it and Grace shuddered.

"Anyone else have the urge to wear it?" Jinx asked quietly.

"Yeah," Blades muttered. "I think that's what it's supposed to do."

"What _is_ it?" Ginny asked, looking green. Sirius rubbed her back, looking just as queasy.

"Dark, whatever it is," he muttered. "Where did you find that?"

"It's kind of a long story," Harry muttered, looking down. "But we found it in a place called Little Hangleton."

Lupin muttered a few spells and what seemed like alarms kept going off after each one. "Definitely Dark and dangerous," he muttered. "What..."

Moody muttered a few things too and shook his head. "That's all I'm getting too."

Aberforth looked over and said, in his usual grumpy way, "You lot are idiots."

"Do you know what it is?" Sirius asked, still disturbing Harry a bit by how _identical_ he was. He really was a clone...

"Foul thing. It's called a horcrux, foulest act of dark magic you can imagine."

"A horcrux, really?" Callahan raised an eyebrow. "Ugh. That'd explain a bit."

"You know what it is?" Harry and Dudley asked simultaneously.

"Can you share?" Grace asked, giving the ring a dirty look. "It tried to make me wear it..."

"Good thing you didn't," Callahan said, looking at her with obvious worry. "Talking about this subject is a bit... taboo." He shut his eyes, looking so much older and more tired that Harry felt bad for him. "Have you heard of a book called _Secrets of the Darkest Art?"_

Sirius looked sick, "Yeah. It's in my family's library. I've seen it but never took a look. But just it being there, I can tell you that it's not good. Why?"

"Good thing for your small amount of sanity then, Black." Callahan said, reminding Harry very much of Snape.

"Oh really? And you had so much of it to begin with?" Sirius said back, giving Callahan a look.

"That's enough," Lupin said it quietly, but the other two both stopped.

"I'm sorry. That... was childish of me."

"... Yeah, same here. What were you saying about the book?"

"It's a horrible book, really awful, full of evil magic…" Callahan repressed a shudder, "Regulus was the one that lent it to me. I didn't know you still had it." He took a breath, "But you asked a question. A horcrux is a very powerful object that a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. In layman's terms..."

"That _thing_ is part of someone's soul?" George asked, looking sick.

Callahan nodded and looked at Grace, "That's why it's good you didn't wear it. It might have... it would have tried to take you over. Small ways at first, like possessing you, but given enough time, it would take over you. Horcruxes are dangerous and powerful."

Ginny had turned pale by this point and whispered in realization, "Possesses you... pour a bit of your soul in..."

"Like Tom Riddle's diary," Harry said, looking at her and she nodded.

"What?" Everyone who didn't know asked.

"It... it was a diary I was writing to when I was eleven," Ginny explained. "It... it had part of Tom Riddle in it... and I... I did things, I couldn't stop him..."

Ron wrapped his arm around his sister, a protective embrace."It wasn't you, Gin, remember? You were possessed. _It wasn't you."_

Harry nodded, still remembering what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets. "Tom Riddle was the wizard that would become Voldemort."

Utter silence for a few seconds.

"But how'd he get it in there?" Fred asked. "I always thought that souls were supposed to be good, that's why the Dementors are such a big deal, right?"

Ron made a face and looked dubiously at the ring, "That doesn't feel very good..."

"And Tom Riddle's diary certainly wasn't," Ginny agreed.

"Cause it isn't," Aberforth said. "Murder. You do some ritual and split your soul by committing murder. That's how you make a horcrux."

"Immortality," Hermione said slowly, making everyone look at her as she stared at the ring. "You don't think... you don't think that maybe... Y-You-Know-Who..."

Tweak shuddered, "Oh hell..."

"What?" Harry asked.

Moody spoke up gruffly, "Hermione's right. There _is_ one wizard that's looked for immortality and is dark. Voldemort."

Grace and Harry shared a look of horror as they looked at the ring. Did Voldemort know about the hallows? No, Harry was sure he couldn't have; a chance to be called the Master of Death? Harry highly doubted the dark wizard had an inkling about it.

He sure hoped Voldemort didn't know anything about them being real. That wouldn't be good at all. But it could explain why Voldemort had gone after his family that night. If he had been after the Invisibility Cloak...

"What can destroy it, then?" Blades inquired quietly, his voice jostling Harry from his thoughts.

Everyone looked at Callahan, who sighed, "Remorse."

"Scratch that one," Aberforth said gruffly, making everyone in the room chuckle.

"I know there's other ways to destroy them, but they're supposed to be difficult," Callahan said, trying to remember.

"We've got to cut this short guys," Fred interrupted, suddenly looking worried.

George nodded, "Mum's hunting for us. The alert system is yellow." He held up what looked like a bracelet with crystal beads that were slowly turning from green to yellow.

"Damn," Moody muttered, electric blue eye rolling around wildly. "Hurry it up. Nobody's remotely near."

"Fine, let's get a move on," Aberforth muttered. "Listen, are you _sure_ about this?" This was said to Ginny.

She nodded, looking determined. Moody stood next to her and Aberforth chanted in some strange language that Harry didn't know. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't ugly and yet, in a way, it was both. It was alien—that was the best description. It made him think of swamps and caves, of children making vows and adults keeping secrets, of loyalty and the price of it...

Harry found himself speaking along with it and not realizing it, but he saw that everyone was too, their eyes wide. And the magic faded, but Harry's spine still tingled with a secret sort of magic.

"Whoa," Dudley said, looking over at him.

"You can say that again," Blades said, grinning.

"Whoooooa," Dudley repeated, making everyone laugh.

"All right, let's go," Fred said briskly, all business. "Ginny, you okay?"

"Yeah," she confirmed.

Hermione hugged Harry, "Take care of yourself. Don't forget to write!"

"I will," Harry said, hugging both her and Ron. "Be careful."

"You too." They left with the twins,Ginny, Moody, and Lupin.

"We'd better get a move on ourselves," Callahan grumbled, looking at Sirius.

"What?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Sev would use Veritaserum and Legilimency in half a heartbeat," Callahan said.

Sirius made a face, "We're really going to go to the Forest of Dean, since I know a little bit of Occlumency and I'm not one of the Secret Keepers."

"The Conspirator's Hold will knock him unconscious due to our intent bit," Aberforth said from the bar area. "The Occlumency should just help a bit. And the Veritaserum, it'd be too suspicious if he Vanished it."

"And even if it's force fed it'll help as opposed to Vanishing it," Sirius said, still not looking pleased. Harry bit back a laugh; Callahan looked just as displeased. "Take care, Harry."

"You too... Harry." Harry grinned at his godfather.

Sirius just laughed and both he and Callahan were gone.

Everyone left in the pub looked at each other, not really sure about what to do now.

Dudley stepped forward. "Thank you, sir, for... for everything," Dudley said to Aberforth. "I don't know how to-"

"Bah," the man waved his hand impatiently as he wiped the bar with a filthy rag. "Go on, get out of here would you? I'll never get done here if you keep drooling all over me."

Dudley chuckled and Harry just shook his head, amused. Blades smirked, "Thanks given and received. C'mon guys, let's go."

They left using the fireplace, Harry gathering up the horcrux reluctantly.

He knew it was a hallow, the stone anyway, but then why did Voldemort turn the ring into a horcrux?

"I don't know," Dudley answered when Harry posed this question to him as they looked over the creek-turned-lake.

"Light?" A voice asked, making them turn. It was Grace. "Someone's asking for you, by the entrance... Scrimgeour."

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Dudley, who nodded. He found the Head of the Aurors standing there waiting for him.

"Hello..." Harry said, unsure about what to do.

"I was wondering if you'd mind helping me. I said I'd get you in case anything happened, but..." Scrimgeour shook his head, "Percy has yet to leave his office. Hasn't even Apparated. I'm... well... you're his friend, I figured you might know what to do. The media is clamoring to talk to him, departments are trying to get a hold of him and he hasn't even acknowledged my knocking." Scrimgeour looked annoyed, "I've got other things to do besides babysit."

Harry rubbed his eyes. He felt exhausted and had a feeling his new pensieve was going to be used quite a fair bit. Friend? He was Percy's friend? He hardly knew Light and well, though he had known Harry Potter for a few years, his word hadn't been enough for Percy!

Harry forced the bitterness away. None of that mattered right now, did it? If he could help, then it was in everyone's best interest for him to do so.

"I'll give it a shot," Harry said quietly. "Lead the way."

As he followed, his brain raced with so many thoughts chasing each other that he hoped his pensieve wouldn't overflow when he got to it. Scrimgeour brought him to the Minister's office and knocked.

Nothing. The Auror shrugged.

Harry's temper flared. He hadn't asked for a lot of the stuff that happened to him in life either, and he didn't hide and sulk about it! He slammed on the door, harder than Scrimgeour had, and had just started kicking it when it opened.

Percy stood there, looking utterly exhausted, and he yelped as Harry's foot connected with his shin. "What is it?" He asked, holding what looked like headphones. "I was working and had on a station I liked on the WWN, I'm sorry. Did you need me for something? If it's not important, can it wait because I have a ton of catch up stuff to do."

Harry looked over his shoulder and just gaped. Scrimgeour was doing the same.

The entire office, which had been clean the day before, was utterly _covered_ in parchment and reports and folders.

"Bloody hell," both Harry and Scrimgeour said in awe.


	10. Chapter 10

_Reason accepts no authority above itself and is necessarily subversive._

~ Allan Bloom

* * *

**10.**

"Bloody hell? That's quite rude to say," Percy said, putting his headphones around his neck. "What is it?"

"Where did all of this come from?" Harry asked, astonished, looking around the office-turned-parchment storehouse. There was no other way to think of it. The ornate office that Harry had seen before had been transformed; it really was... just a mess of paper. An utter _mess_. There was no floor. There was a few inches of desk and a chair. And heaps of parchment.

Oh, did he mention the _heaps of parchment and papers everywhere?_

Percy indicated what looked to Harry like a broom closet at the other end of the office. The tiny room seemed covered with lines but Harry saw that they were really tiny magical shelves to hold the many reports and files. Squinting he could see runes and the like etched onto the little lines.

"What is that?" Harry inquired, tilting his head.

"The back room. I told you that there was a lot of paperwork that needed to be caught up with."

"It's unusually warm," Scrimgeour commented slowly, raising an eyebrow. "... What are you doing?"

Harry followed Percy's gaze towards a small fireplace near the window. It was burning brightly and he could dimly make out papers and parchment in it.

"Those are the things that disgusted me," Percy said when Harry and Scrimgeour stared at it and looked at him. "If you're not busy, I'd appreciate some help."

"Some of those documents are top secret," Scrimgeour gave Percy a disapproving look, that clearly stated he should obviously know this. "You cannot expect us to just simply help. You're the Minister. This is your job."

"... You were the ones that interrupted me," Percy said, looking at Scrimgeour with an irritated look that was familiar to Harry. It was the look Percy had always had at the Burrow when he had been distracted.

Perhaps it was the thought of the Burrow that made Harry think of his friends and the war. Scrimgeour had just said top secret, hadn't he? If Harry could get a look at something, anything, that could be useful, then shouldn't he jump on that as quickly as he could?

"Percy, if this is what they're expecting you to catch up with by yourself, they've lost their minds," Harry said, causing Scrimgeour to give him a mild glare and Percy to flush lightly and give a shrug. "I'm in, I'll help. What were you burning?" This was asked as he waded into the room.

Percy waddled through the piles, Harry behind him. They heard a soft swear and heard Scrimgeour fighting to shut the door behind him as he entered the office and stood by the door, reminding Harry of a guard. "I summoned anything regarding mottoes for the Ministry over here. I've been reading them and they're all just..." He gave a weak sigh, "Just take a look."

Harry took the proffered parchment. "Magic is Might?" Harry read this and looked at the parchment he was holding and was a bit disturbed it was suggested by a certain Mr. Tom Riddle back in 1946. "Power through Purity?" He felt a bit queasy and looked at Percy.

The Minister of Magic gave Harry a rare smile and indicated the fireplace.

Harry laughed and tossed the suggestion into the flames, watching as it burned. "It might be hot in here," Harry said, watching the flames, "but it's worth it."

"Just don't get the same satisfaction Vanishing them," Percy agreed, surprising Harry. Some of the mottos must really be bad.

"You know, don't we _have_ a motto already?" Harry asked, looking at Percy.

"No," Percy answered. "I believe we've always just used the Muggle one."

Scrimgeour spoke, making the two younger men jump, "What would you pick, then?"

Harry shrugged and glanced sideways at Percy, who just looked into the fire. He had a suspicion Percy had an idea but wouldn't say. Why wouldn't he? "Perce?"

"It wouldn't work for a national motto," he said quietly.

"So? Can't be worse than 'Die Muggles Die,'" Harry read this aloud, wrinkling his nose at the distasteful, offending piece of parchment and tossed it into the flames. Percy was right; it really _was_ satisfying watching it burn.

"... Enough has been thought, said, felt, and imagined. It's about time that something should actually be done," Percy said quietly. "I'm not really thinking about things like mottos. I've read some other files and I've been thinking about those more. I think... that we can worry about things like that later."

Harry nodded, wondering what Percy was going to do. He had an odd look in his eyes, a gleam that reminded Harry very much of Fred and George when they were up to something, and a dangerous smile that reminded Harry of Percy's brothers.

How had he ever wondered how Percy could be related to the Weasleys, Harry didn't know. At that moment, it was obvious.

Percy lifted his wand and said, _"Accio_ all suggestions about mottos or slogans for the Ministry!"

To Harry's surprise, quite a few papers flew over-a few small heaps, from what he saw. Enough to clear the floor a tiny bit, to have a little patch around the fireplace and where they sat. Percy threw these papers into the flames and they both watched as the suggestions burned.

After a few moments, Harry glanced over at Percy and winced; the look Percy was giving rest of the paperwork gave Harry the distinct impression that it would be on fire from his anger. He knew that Percy was quite a follower of the rules and seeing how they had been disregarded must have really bothered him.

"Mottos," Percy said softly, narrowing his eyes. Harry could see the flames reflected through Percy's horn-rimmed glasses. "Of all the things for people to care more about, _mottos_..."

"Maybe they thought it'd help out somehow with other countries?" Harry suggested aloud. "Make them see what we're all about?"

"Last year we tried branching out more," Percy said tiredly. "I was running the department responsible for it. I think I mentioned it, how there was an inquiry but I showed I had reported it? Actually... now that I'm thinking about it... _accio _my reports."

A few reports flew into Percy's hands and he looked over them, stunned. "Some of these are from last year!" He said, eyes widened. "When I got clearance for the Triwizard Tournament-how did it even go on when this wasn't looked at?" He looked at Harry, worry etched on his face.

"You think that there might be other misunderstandings?" Harry inquired.

"_Accio_ all reports and suggestions regarding international affairs!" Percy said immediately.

If Harry had thought that the heaps of paper, parchment and reports were a lot for mottos and slogans, they were nothing compared to the international piles.

"Ahhhh!" Both he and Percy shouted, the papers knocking them over. Harry felt very much like he had during the second task in the lake, only this time he was swimming in paper.

And getting papercuts.

And had no gillyweed.

After some flopping around and jumping and yelping, the two managed to get clear of the piles surrounding them. Harry noticed a quarter of the office now seemed neater. Wow. There must be quite a bit about international things. He and Percy both shared looks.

"No time like the present, I suppose," Percy said, shaking his head. "Let's get cracking."

Harry nodded and just grabbed something at random. His eyes widened, "Wow."

"What is it?" Percy asked, looking over.

"This thing..." Harry held up the unopened letter from the ICW. "It's from 1947. Untouched."

"Goodness," Percy muttered. "That's quite some time it's been sitting. What's it about?"

Harry opened it and just stared at it in surprise as he read and re-read the lengthy letter. "Whoa..." He looked at Percy, "It's about Dementors."

"Dementors?" Percy blinked, "They guard the prison."

"That's the problem. According to this, any use of Dementors in the punishment of criminals is inhumane. They said it's against the Chateau du Rhodes Convention."

Percy took the letter and read it, "Inhumane?" Percy thought for a few moments, sighing. "This is completely... why didn't anyone before me look at this stuff?"

"Because there were more important things than the ICW's opinion," Scrimgeour said, making both of them jump. "If you're telling me that you think that the people in Azkaban don't deserve that treatment, then that is insane."

"But the ICW is the international community-" Percy began.

"They don't matter when someone like You-Know-Who is around," Scrimgeour said darkly. "When someone like him is around, you do what you need to do. People are afraid of Dementors. They make people realize the severity of their actions."

Percy opened his mouth to speak and then shut it, looking as if he were thinking very hard about something.

Both Scrimgeour and Harry shared looks. Harry disagreed with the older man about the Dementors-he knew they would side with Voldemort. But how could he get Percy to agree with him? Using the ICW wouldn't work, not if Scrimgeour had his way...

"You're right," Percy said quietly. "I think, perhaps, prison might be too harsh."

"_What?_" Both Harry and Scrimgeour were stunned.

Harry continued, "What on earth makes you think that?"

"Because I saw Peter Pettigrew," Percy said, looking at Harry. "And so did both of you. But think about it. Sirius Black's prolonged exposure to Dementors is why he can never have full custody of his godson. Something that _we_ did to him. Hagrid, when I was still at Hogwarts, was messed up from Dementors for a while according to my brother, and he was only there for a few weeks."

Silence. Harry hadn't even thought of that.

"If Sirius Black really is guilty, then why would Peter Pettigrew hide for so long? Why would Ron's story actually make sense?" Percy drummed his fingers against the desk, "If there really are innocent people in Azkaban, is that what we want? Is what we want is to make them so insane that if we see the truth, there's no hope of them being normal again? As for realizing the severity, everyone knows the price of crime. It's why our Law Enforcement department gets so much respect, why you Aurors are called the best of the best."

Harry noticed that Scrimgeour seemed an odd mixture of embarrassed and upset. "You're right," he said, looking thoughtfully at the ground. "Pettigrew _is_ out there. We've got Crabbe and Goyle, we can question them and put out a warrant for Pettigrew once they talk."

"But we saw him," Harry said, confused.

Percy gave Harry a weak smile, "Peter Pettigrew is listed as dead still. We have to make folders and the like for him. Even him being there with two confirmed Death Eaters isn't enough proof. That's just all basically... it could be a case of Imperius, a case of extortion, we don't know."

Harry scoffed and Scrimgeour chuckled, "Yeah, we feel the same way, trust me. But if we're doing it right, once those two spill and say he's one of them, we can get him on charges of being a Death Eater and, if Black is really innocent, then we've got him for the murders of twelve people."

Harry nodded, "Makes sense. Sucks that it'll take so long though..."

Scrimgeour mused for a few seconds, "You're right. I'll set a few of my best on it tomorrow, to help with the interrogations. We'll make them talk."

"Don't use illegal force," Percy said, looking over the paperwork. He glanced at Scrimgeour, "You think Madam Bones will understand why we're putting out that warrant and removing the Dementors?"

"She's never really liked them, from what I understand," Scrimgeour admitted. "So I don't think you'll get much trouble. And she saw Pettigrew too, so she'll probably think along the same lines." He seemed surprised as he said it, Harry noticed. For a moment, he wondered why the Auror would look that way.

Then Harry knew-he had said he had better things to do than baby-sit, hadn't he? He was probably surprised that Percy had managed to make sense despite his age.

Percy took out a piece of parchment and jotted down the two things he intended to do. He looked at Harry thoughtfully, "Light, I think that while you're here we should get things out of the way. Informally for now and I'll start doing it officially tomorrow."

"O-Okay," Harry said, surprised. "Well, basically, folks just want equal rights and help."

"Reasonable enough," Percy said, thinking. "... Actually..." He had that thoughtful look once more, and he stood up, going towards another pile of papers before he found what he was looking for. "I thought that was the case." He looked more tired than he had a few moments ago.

"What is it?" Harry inquired.

"Before he left, Minister Fudge got quite a bit of educational reforms passed," Percy said, looking at the papers thoughtfully. "I attended Hogwarts, and, well, the education could use some improvement but I don't think it's as dire as these reports and decrees make it seem."

"Okay..." Harry raised an eyebrow, confused. How had Percy gotten to _that_ topic?

"How does that fit in with werewolves?" Scrimgeour asked, more blunt than Harry.

"Because the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever had in my seven years of school was a werewolf," Percy answered. "He left the job because he was a werewolf. The files here have... ah, here we are. Apparently he forgot his potion one night..." Percy read over that information thoughtfully. "Except that was the night my brother broke his leg, the night Sirius Black found him. If Professor Lupin forgot his potion because he was running to save a student's life, I think that can be filed under exception..."

The idea of Lupin being back at Hogwarts made Harry's heart soar. Lupin _was_ the best teacher they had had, and if Percy was going to put him there, then Harry knew for sure people would be getting taught good Defense, which was a plus with Voldemort being back.

"And the parents that will freak out about a werewolf teaching their students?" Scrimgeour asked.

"Well, there's been a lot of disturbing security issues in the past," Percy said thoughtfully. "I think those parents would feel better if we could have two or three of your people there at all times. Would that be doable? It'd answer their worries, I'm sure, and for all of his faults, Professor Snape is excellent at Potions."

Harry looked over the decrees for education. "High Inquistor? What's that? It says here that it was a distinct possibility in the future if things looked grim..."

"Basically an inspector for the teachers," Percy said, reading over it. "I want to say that doesn't make sense, but I've been a student there. Some of those teachers really do need proper incentive to teach. History was horrible and according to my brother, Divination is a joke. And some of my Defense teachers, well, one only taught us how to write poetry and worship him, so needless to say, in some cases, inspection might be good. Unfortunately, we don't really have anyone qualified for that post though, so I'd probably have to send a request to the ICW to send a person."

"That doesn't sound too weird," Harry said, thinking about it.

Percy made a face, "I promise you people will complain. Probably say that Hogwarts is a school, not an extension of the Ministry."

"But it'd be the ICW."

Scrimgeour scoffed, "Yes, but he's implying that Dumbledore's fallible. Some people here worship the ground that man walks on."

Percy looked towards the fireplace, silent for a few moments before he sighed and looked at Harry, "I think I'll approach Remus Lupin, if that's all right?"

"I hope he'll accept," Harry said, quite truthfully.

"The Wolfsbane shouldn't be an issue, I'll send a notice to the major potion brewer organizations. The jobs might be a tad harder, since I can't exactly make them out of thin air," Percy admitted. "I can get rid of the restrictions and the like, though I would like them to register like animagi do so that we know where they and can get them the Wolfsbane even if they don't live in the settlement."

Harry had a thought of three animagi that weren't registered, and he wondered if his father would be proud of him. Sirius seemed to be. And well, Cal was too, and he had been friends with Harry's mother.

"Incidentally, is there anything regarding the settlement? I know water was an issue..." Percy looked concerned.

Harry quickly explained the changes and ideas they had been discussing.

"I'll put up the approved paperwork tomorrow," Percy said, yawning as his stomach growled. He ignored it, saying, "You said Merpeople are there too?"

Harry nodded.

"I could've sworn I..." Percy made his way to his desk and pulled out a folder, "Ah, I did. I made this folder specifically for the Merpeople. Take a look."

Harry took the folder and read it, Scrimgeour over his shoulder. "... Sewage..." Harry shuddered and looked at the thick folder and at the dates. "Percy, some of these are from the 1840s and about the same thing..."

"Raw sewage from the school of Hogwarts in their village? Ghosts from the school bothering them? This is horrible." Scrimgeour made a face of disgust, "Why didn't they file complaints?"

"They did. Keep looking in there." Percy paced a bit, "And if you think they're bad, just look at the Centaurs-here."

He handed them another folder. Harry gave the one about the Merpeople to Scrimgeour and took the one about the Centaurs.

Percy spoke, reminding Harry of his usual self instead of the tired young Minister he had been forced to become. "Here's the thing about Centaurs. Despite being highly intelligent, Centaurs are classified as Beasts at their own request, as they were unhappy at having to share Being status with hags and vampires. Or so we've always been told, right?"

Harry nodded. He had a feeling a Percy-lecture was coming, but he had seen that the boring lectures Percy had always been about to give but had been written off had had use and value. He wasn't going to make that mistake again in a hurry!

"Take a look. From 1890 on, they requested a change in status. But look. Never granted, never even _read_. Doesn't surprise me because of who was Minister of Magic then. Farris Spavin. About half the restrictions put on non-humans were made during the thirty-eight years he was in office. The Centaurs don't use the Centaur Liaison Office because it's insulting. They're used to dealing with chiefs and the leaders of the people. It's no wonder when Minister Spavin visited Hogwarts in 1899 the Centaurs tried to assassinate him. He knew that and deliberately insulted them by making an office like that because he didn't want to deal with them, since here in the Ministry..."

"The leader is the Minister," Harry finished.

"Exactly." Percy indicated the files that Scrimgeour was holding, "The Merpeople have the same problem."

"They've filed for Being status too... but never even looked at..." Scrimgeour looked at Percy, "Have you been dividing these things up by beings?"

"They were together so I stuck with that system," Percy confirmed. He indicated the files, "Muggles, wizards and witches, Squibs, Goblins, vampires, hags, giants, house-elves, Veela, werewolves, Centaurs and Merpeople." He looked at the Veela file angrily, "Did you know about some of the horrible acts that people force those poor beings to undergo just because of their physical appearance? Even their appearance when they're angry doesn't keep sick people away." He shook his head, angry.

Harry felt a little sick and really didn't want to pry much more into that and looked at the file in his hand, "But... wouldn't both Centaurs and Merpeople have a hard time coming to the Ministry in person?"

"Exactly," Percy said. "Anyone else _could_ come in person to complain. But they can't. We're in the middle of a huge Muggle city. Because it's on land, the Merpeople would need assistance and a centaur can't walk down a street in London without Muggles noticing. So they've been ignored. Of course. And, oh hell, _accio _Centaur complaints!"

There was a small whirlwind of papers and a bunch of them flew into Percy's hands. He muttered a few spells that Harry couldn't hear, but he saw the papers jump around and start organizing themselves.

Harry was able to see the complaints the Centaurs made over the years as the papers sorted them self out. One was from 1943 about a student (no doubt Hagrid) starting an Acromantula colony in their forest. Some of the ones from the mid to late 1970s were about a werewolf, a stag and a dog repeatedly violating their territory. If they were who Harry thought they were, the Centaurs correctly assumed the stag and dog were animagi though Harry wondered why they didn't notice a certain rat. But then again rats are small and not likely to be seen at a distance in a forest, or thought to be unusual. In 1992, the Centaurs complained about a two faced monster (no doubt 'Quirrelmort') killing unicorns on their lands and in 1993 and 1994, the Centaurs repeatedly complained about the Dementors entering their territory, kissing at least one foul and nearly kissing several other Centaurs. After reading that, he was surprised that the Centaurs hadn't declared war.

Percy opened his mouth to speak, but another loud grumble from his stomach interrupted him. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"... Percy... when was the last time you ate?" Harry asked slowly.

"When I ate with you," Percy said, thinking. "Why? It's only been a few hours, right?"

"You're been here for over a day, Minister," Scrimgeour said calmly.

"That long?" Percy shook his head, sighing. "I just don't feel right leaving when there's work to be done... all right, give me a few minutes." He summoned more files about beings, sorting them with the same spells. Harry was astonished by how utterly efficient Percy was, working quickly and paying attention to detail. There were still papers everywhere, but at least some things were sorted.

"What are these..." Harry picked up a paper. "Muggle hunting?"

"Yes. It was presented as a sport, much like Quidditch." Percy looked disgusted, "Some people even wanted Muggles to be put into the Beast classification. It's pathetic." He rubbed his eyes once more. "Some people even wanted a family of wizards called the Gaunts to be classified as Beasts, take a look..."

"Minister, we shall look later," Scrimgeour said calmly. "For now, let's get you something to eat and take a walk."

"I'll prefer it in the opposite order, but thank you," Percy stretched and yawned. They left the office, Harry surprised by how silent and empty the Ministry was. He wasn't sure why he was surprised; everyone else had probably gone home already, since it was pretty late.

They walked in mainly silence, until they reached the Atrium. Percy just stared at the Fountain of Magical Brethren for a long time, just utterly stared at it before shutting his eyes as if in pain.

"Perce?" Harry asked quietly, putting a hand on his arm.

"This fountain is a lie," Percy said quietly, just looking at it. "Just looking at it makes me sick. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long. We don't deserve some adoring thing like this." He snapped his fingers, summoning a house elf.

"Yes Minister Weasley?" the house elf squeaked, bowing deeply to Percy.

"Could you please do me a favor?" Percy asked politely, making sure he was eye level with the elf. Harry noticed Scrimgeour seemed to wince at the movement.

"Anythings, Minister Weasley!" The house elf replied excitedly.

"This fountain..." Percy shook his head, "Get rid of it and replace it with something else, something nice, please."

"What would you likes us to do with it?" The house elf asked.

Percy pointed to the small, smudged sign stating where the proceeds were to go. "Give it to the hospital. Gold like that will help them a great deal I bet. Anything valuable goes there."

"Okays, Minister Weasley. We will gives proceeds to the hospital and make something pretty here! Would Minister Weasley like anything else?"

"Maybe something to eat in my office, but please don't put it on the papers."

"Yes Minister Weasley!" With that, the elf was gone and Percy looked at the others.

"I don't believe you're getting rid of this fountain," Scrimgeour said, looking at it. "It's been here for years!"

"I'm not going to stare at this lie every day," Percy said, looking at the golden fountain. "We don't need gold statues. We need reality. Why just have a fountain of it when we can work hard to make that picture real?"

Harry found himself agreeing with the statement. Why indeed?

Scrimgeour had nothing to say to that, so the three returned to the Minister's office. There were sandwiches waiting on a tray for them, and so Percy ate them before returning to his work. He seemed to be Vanishing and burning some of the more distasteful suggestions, like making Muggle hunting a sport, legalizing Muggle Baiting, legalizing the use of the Unforgivables, spaying and neutering werewolves...

Harry was helping him by going through different papers as well. Some of them really didn't seem relevant anymore. He looked up to comment on this, but noticed Percy looked confused. Scrimgeour was dozing in the corner of the office, so Harry asked, "What's up?"

"This report makes no sense," Percy said, tilting his head. "It compares us to Oceania, but that's the geographical region that's made up of the Pacific Islands of Micronesia, Melanesia and Polynesia, Australia, and the Malay Archipelago. We're not even close to them let alone in the Pacific Ocean."

Harry thought for a few seconds, "It's probably for something else. What's the report say?"

"It said that Orwell was right, but he just had the world wrong, unless he was a British Squib, which would explain a lot about his Oceania, since he lived in it. I don't... I don't understand what that means."

The name Orwell had rung a bell with Harry. He could remember times hiding from... well, hiding from the changeling in the library. He hadn't had a card, but he could still hide there. He had once been a good, diligent student... he had read a lot, had even read books above his level, and now he could remember it.

"That's from Nineteen Eighty-Four," Harry said, remembering.

"You know what he's talking about?"

"Yeah... but..." Harry felt a little reluctant to admit it, since he knew Percy already wasn't going to have an easy time at his job.

"Can you tell me?"

"It's a Muggle book," Harry said, remembering it. "Oceania is one of the countries in it. It's... It's not a compliment. Oceania was run by Big Brother, a dictator. It... it was a place where the government had complete and total power over the people and knew everything they did. It was bad."

Percy drummed his fingers against the desk before he sighed, "It seems that we're practically the laughing stock of the international community from everything I've seen in these reports. We've had a lot of complaints with so many things... especially finding investors. People think that our economy will stagnate soon without new businesses or anything."

"Is that bad?" Harry asked.

"Well, you see the difficulty of jobs now. We can pass legislation to make starting a business easier, but..." Percy shrugged. "Honestly the ones that'd know the most about the economy would be the Goblins."

"Goblins?" echoed Harry, noticing Scrimgeour yawned and walked over, obviously to catch up on what had happened when he had dozed for those few moments.

"Yes," Percy confirmed. He held up their file, "Unfortunately, they've got quite a few reasons to complain. I've been reading through their many, many, _many_ lists as you two argued. This one thing in particular bothers me." He slid the letter out so they could see.

"Ludo Bagman?" Scrimgeour laughed, "He didn't steal from the goblins, Minister, nobody is that foolish."

"He just owed them some money," Harry said, remembering how the bet fiasco had worked out.

"Yes, that's the thing." Percy reached into his desk. "I culled the expenses from the last few years. I noticed that the ones for the Sports and Games Department crept up every year." He narrowed his eyes, making Harry wonder what he had missed. He glanced at Scrimgeour for help.

The Auror looked back at him and gave a shrug. Good, Harry wasn't so alone.

"Minister, we had the Quidditch World Cup here last year," Scrimgeour said. "Surely that accounts for the expenses?"

"It does for one year," Percy answered. "But for the goblins to be complaining to the Minister of Magic means something. And Ludo Bagman was always..." He shook his head, thinking. "I don't see any approval for him to have had the amount that he took."

Harry looked at Percy, still confused, but Scrimgeour laughed, "If you're thinking that Ludo stole money from the Ministry-"

"That's exactly what I'm thinking he did," Percy said darkly. "He owed them money and stole from us to try to pay it. And that wasn't enough but he couldn't keep stealing from us. He's not here now, is he?"

"No," Harry said, remembering how the twins had been after Bagman.

"My brothers probably knew," Percy said softly. "They had been bothering him all of last year. They would confront him. And I lectured them. I was _embarrassed_ by them..." He put his hand over his face and breathed deeply for a few seconds. "I want Bagman found. I want these finances explained."

"Minister-"

"You're right. I need to find Amelia Bones, excuse me... she's who I need to go to for things like that, right?" Percy nodded, answering his own question, "Yes, head of Law Enforcement, that's who puts out the wanted posters." He went to the little fireplace that was hidden by the papers.

"You're going to call her this late?" Harry asked, surprised. "Isn't that rude?"

"Yes, it is a bit," Percy said.

"It's waited for months-" Scrimgeour began.

"Exactly! That's why we have no time to waste." Percy looked around and waved his wand, causing Harry to see that he had labeled quite a few other folders. International affairs were being sorted now with spells. Percy stopped and pulled the ones that dealt with Azkaban out before he turned to the fireplace and threw in some floo powder, "Amelia Bones!" he called clearly.

"I don't believe this," Scrimgeour said, looking at the ceiling.

Harry raised an eyebrow, curious.

Soon, Madam Bones appeared, in her flannel pajamas. "Minister Weasley? To what do I owe the very late pleasure?"

"I'm sorry for bothering you at such an hour-" Percy began, but she interrupted him.

"Galloping Gargoyles! What's happened to your office?" Her eyes were both very wide as she looked all around the office.

Harry looked around. It was much, _much_ better than it had been earlier. Now there were tiny little pathways of floor so that people could get around, at least.

"The back room was more crowded than we thought," Percy answered politely. "But I'm bothering you because... well, a few of the things I can do, I want your approval and opinion with. Take a look..." He gave her the list he had compiled, which had the reasons for his actions jotted onto it. "Truthfully, I may be a tad biased with the Bagman incident," Percy said.

"Biased?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes," Percy answered. "If Bagman really hasn't been paying his debts, he owes my brothers thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts... oh, and a fake wand or five Galleons, since that was what he said he'd pay for one." Percy thought for a moment, "Actually, that was what their wager was and he agreed to it, so double that."

"What would he owe your brothers money for?" Scrimgeour asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The Quidditch World Cup," Percy answered promptly. "Fred and George were underage at the time, yes, but he accepted the wager regardless which means it's allowed."

"I like your reasoning, Minister," Madam Bones said briskly. "I'll get right on these when I come in. And I don't mean to be rude, but shouldn't you lot be sleeping?"

The three of them looked at the clock in the office and all stared in disbelief. It was almost three in the morning! Harry had no idea where the time had gone and he could see that Percy felt guilty. "Hey, we wanted to be here, remember?" He said.

"Still," Percy said, shaking his head. "I think you two should go-"

"Minister," Madam Bones interrupted. "I think you should go to sleep as well. Perhaps a fresh mind can help you with the energy you will need to deal with the complaints."

Percy blushed a bit and nodded, "Thank you. Light, I am so sorry. Do you want one of us to bring you home?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm going to make a quick stop by the werewolf settlement to let them know that changes will be soon then I'll head home."

Percy nodded and they all left at the same time, Harry leaving using the fireplace.

"It does not smell like old gym socks!"

Okay, that was a random first thing to hear when landing somewhere. Curiosity got the better of Harry when he realized that he recognized the voice that was protesting.

It was Snape.

"Oh five quid that your Amortentia _so_ does smell like old gym socks that have been out on a hot day!"

And that was Callahan. What were they doing? Harry could hear them...

"It does not! It has a _nice_ smell!" Snape's voice retorted.

"For you!" Callahan's voice scoffed back.

"OI!"

Harry wondered what they were doing awake at this time and so he went to their brewing area. He poked his head in but the two men engrossed in their mock-argument didn't even notice him.

Snape seemed... relaxed. He was actually smiling, which Harry really hadn't seen, and looked far younger than Harry really had remembered. He had known Snape was around his parents' ages, and they wouldn't have been too old, but it was still odd. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail once more and he was speaking again, "I'll bet you that yours smells like cat litter!"

"What?" Callahan made a face, "It does not!"

"I didn't even specify that it wasn't clean," Snape retorted, grinning as his eyes glittered with amusement.

"Oi!" Callahan protested as Snape laughed. "It smells like my lovely conditioner, thank you very much. And you could use some, you know! It's specifically designed for people in our work conditions!"

"For the umpteenth time, I don't _care_ what people think about my looks. It's not like I've got anyone I'm trying to impress."

"Oh right, all hail Sev the vampire king!"

Harry couldn't resist chuckling at that bit, causing the two of them to turn.

"Hello Light," both of them said simultaneously.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "You're up late. Can't sleep? I'm sure there's a potion to help with that..."

"Oh no, sir, I'm fine," Harry said truthfully. "I was just at the Ministry with Percy. He's a bit of a workaholic and we just finished. The paperwork... it's really far behind. Some of the things we saw were from the 1890s."

"Dear Merlin," both of them said at the same time, sharing a look with the other and just sharing a grin.

"Well, are you and him all right?" Callahan asked, concerned.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Just was going to tell Dudley that he's going to make the changes."

"That's excellent news," Callahan said.

"And that he's going to ask Mr. Lupin to work at Hogwarts as the Defense teacher," Harry said, wondering if Snape would comment.

He didn't disappoint, "Wait, what? I don't want him back there! It's bad enough I had to deal with him before! And they want him _back?_ No! I protest!"

"Your protest is duly noted," Callahan said dutifully.

"Oh stop it. What if he forgets again? If he-"

"He said he'd put Aurors for security detail too," Harry said.

If he had thought this would silence Severus Snape, he was wrong.

"_Aurors!_ They're worse than Lupin!" Snape groaned and made a face. "Always interrogating me and sneering at me and... and... and..."

"And upholding the law?" Callahan suggested with a ghost of a smile.

"Exactly!" Snape said, nodding. "Aurors hate me!"

Harry wondered why Callahan would've said upholding the law and gotten a yes before he remembered the Dark Mark on Snape's arm. Of _course_ the Aurors would give him a hard time. Hadn't the false Moody tricked everyone last year and hadn't he been suspicious of Snape?

"Sev, by your logic, _everyone_ hates you," Callahan said, rolling his eyes.

"They do!"

"Well stop being a bitter old man."

"I am not old!"

"Notice the bit he protests," Callahan said to Harry, who just laughed. "The kid's probably asleep, but you can wake him up to tell him the good news."

"Why are you two awake anyway?" Harry asked.

"Enjoying the last few nights of freedom before Sev's tossed back into prison," Callahan answered.

"Prison?" Harry tilted his head, not understanding.

"Hogwarts," both men explained.

"You think your job is a prison?" Harry asked, giving Snape a look.

"They stuck me in the dungeon, what do _you_ think it is?" Snape retorted, the look of distaste on his face making Harry try not to laugh. It was still weird, viewing Snape as a normal person. "And the waking up early doesn't help. Go do nocturnal activities and be awake and coherent to teach a volatile subject... it's ridiculous."

Harry had never thought about that before, but the teachers did have night duty. It'd make sense if the next day they were tired.

"Well, take care," Harry said to them.

"You too," both replied.

Harry had just left the tent when he heard Callahan say, "You're good at keeping control of your classes though, aren't you? Nowhere near the amount of explosions we had in school."

"My students don't get away with throwing firecrackers into potions," Snape answered. "Potter did it once but I couldn't prove it. Well, I could but the Headmaster frowns upon using Legilimency on students for proof of punishment. I could have gone to his head of house, but it wasn't worth it."

Harry remembered when he had thrown that firecracker, in his second year. He hoped Sirius didn't try anything foolish like that...

Well, he wouldn't be the one serving detention. Harry, still a bit worried for his godfather, found his way to his cousin's tent. He entered and stared, confused.

What was with the weight-lifting equipment? That hadn't been there earlier. Making sure the tent was closed so nobody would hear, Harry shook Dudley awake.

"Huh?" Dudley blinked a few times before rubbing his eyes, "Light? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, have some good news and a question for you," Harry confirmed. "What's with the weights?"

Dudley looked at his cousin for a moment before he looked at the weights. "Oh, those." He chuckled and looked at Harry, "You don't think this physique earns itself, do you?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yes, you're such a pretty boy."

"Hey!" Dudley protested.

After chuckling for a bit, Harry told Dudley what had happened at the Ministry. His cousin's surprise was obvious. "Really? He wants Remus to teach? I mean, I'll have to ask him, but that... that would really help us out. It'd show that we're not savage beasts and don't always fit the stereotypes."

"Well, Lupin was the best Defense teacher I ever had at Hogwarts," Harry admitted. "Percy said the same thing. If he agrees, that will really help everyone."

"So he's going to focus on things that nobody else has," Dudley said, thinking about it. "That's political suicide, you know. It won't be popular at all. People hate us and have nothing but contempt and insults for other beings and folks like the Centaurs and Merpeople."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I think he knows that too. But it's not like he wanted the position, remember?"

Dudley nodded and clapped Harry on the shoulder, "Go get some sleep. Bathilda will be missing you."

"Take care."

"You too. Sweet dreams."

Perhaps 'no dreams' would have been better because Harry swore he fell asleep in midair when he reached his room. And his exhaustion seemed to keep those odd dreams of corridors away.

He slept so soundly, in fact, that it wasn't until a scream woke him.

"AH!" Harry yelped, sitting upright. His eyes felt like they were coated in sand, thanks to the contacts he had slept in. He could see the source of shouting though: a bright red Howler, shouting at him.

He groaned, hearing his friends shout at him for having made them worry and the like. He supposed they must have been too relieved to have known he was okay to have remembered they were upset and worried.

"AND NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" The Howler ripped itself up and Harry just sighed. He got ready and went downstairs, staring in complete and utter shock at the Daily Prophet's headline, which Bathilda was reading.

_Largest ever donation to St. Mungo's, courtesy of Minister Weasley uncovering Ministry scam_

What? Harry scanned the article quickly and was surprised. The Fountain had been emptied every night, yes, but nobody had told the House Elves that the profits were supposed to go to St. Mungo's! Harry had thought that there would be a spell in the fountain or something, but apparently there hadn't been. And since the statues had been taken away, their value was added to the huge lump sum as well.

He didn't really think that was a scam per say, but Harry knew first hand that the papers liked to slant things. Shaking his head, he continued to read.

The article also went on about how that showed that the new Minister obviously considered the hospital important. It went on about how the money would be used for expanding the hospital and researching various things, and the Healers and other workers were quoted as constantly thanking the Minister, saying that he showed he cared for them and their patients by actions, not words...

Harry smiled. An act that Percy had wanted done to get rid of that fountain that he thought was a lie and yet a huge amount of good came out of it. He hoped that sort of luck would continue. When Bathilda finished with the Daily Prophet, Harry took it.

True to her word, Madam Bones _had_ put out the announcements. The Dementors at Azkaban had been removed that morning and guards had been increased. Peter Pettigrew had been named by two Death Eaters and was now wanted for being a Death Eater and for the murder of twelve people and an accessory to the murder of two others.

And there was a public apology to Sirius Black for what had happened to him... and...

And to Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore for the slander of their names? Percy and Madam Bones hadn't mentioned that last night!

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, unsure about how to feel, what to do, anything, except the fact that right now, he was deliriously, gloriously happy. Things were working out, things would be okay...

_Calm down, Potter._

Harry thought that a few more times. He knew how quickly things could change, hadn't he seen it first hand? People were fickle. So yes, things were starting, but Harry wasn't going to get all of his hopes up just yet.

They still had a long way to go, but at least they were starting.

All Harry could hope was that they'd move fast enough with the time they had. And he wasn't going to let it pass by if he could help. "I'll see you later, Bathilda!" Harry called, leaving the house. He was going to go see his cousin and then from there, he'd figure out what he was going to do.


	11. Chapter 11

"_It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brush fires in people's minds."  
_~Samuel Adams

* * *

**11.**

Harry had just entered the pub to Floo over to the werewolf settlement. "Hey Lex," he greeted.

"Hey Light," the bartender replied, giving Harry a smile. "Tired too, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Harry said, shaking his head. "Been running back and forth and everywhere in between these past few days."

"Gellert, waaaaaaaaaaaaait!" A voice shouted.

Harry turned, tilting his head and letting out a loud, "OOMPH!" as someone crashed into him.

His head also ached with the hit of the cane.

"Owwwww..." he groaned.

"Oh thank goodness I caught up to you," Bathilda said, looking pleased as they stood. Well, more along the lines of Lex practically picking her up and Harry slowly standing. "I've got something for you!"

"You've got something for me?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow. What now? Was it more tea?

Oh dear God, if she tried another date with Dumbledore, he was going to learn to Apparate early and stay with Dudley. No, no and well, there just frankly weren't enough words for _nooooooo!_

But seeing only Bathilda made Harry relatively sure he had no idea what she was planning. Then again, he hadn't really said much as he had eaten. He felt a twinge of guilt at that, since he didn't want Bathilda to think she was alone or anything. He remembered what she had said, that first night...

'_I don't want to die alone.'_

He couldn't forget the little old lady who had let him stay with her. Yes he was busy, but he had to make time for her too. "I'm sorry Bathilda, I left without even checking. That was rude. Let's get back and I can see, shall we?"

"Of course! Did you think I'm so forgetful? How could I forget what today is?" She took Harry by the hand and all but dragged him back to the cottage.

"What today is?" Harry repeated, not understanding.

"Oh Gellert!" Bathilda grinned at him. "You're such a busy young man that you forgot your own birthday?"

"My... my birthday?" Harry echoed. His birthday was in July.

Except Bathilda didn't call him that. She called him... wait a second...

Today was Gellert Grindelwald's birthday? Harry blinked, surprised, and remembered that he had to write to the man.

Wait.

Who better, well besides Voldemort obviously, to help him with the horcrux problem? Harry felt like an idiot. And he still had to ask about what the man had meant about the whole intention with magic bit.

They reached the house and Bathilda beamed proudly as she presented Harry with a tiny box. "I thought, since you're always busy and doing so much, sometimes you get people that don't agree." She looked sad and rubbed Harry's arm, "I thought I would try to protect you the best I could. But don't worry, it won't embarrass you, it's so lovely!"

Harry smiled, "I'm sure it's lovely Bathilda." He unwrapped the box. It reminded him, once open, very much of his Aunt Petunia's jewelry boxes. Harry slowly lifted the lid and couldn't help but stare at it.

A snowy owl charm on a chain.

"I didn't want goblin-made," Bathilda said. "They always want it back. I got you elf made!"

"Thank you," Harry said, hugging her tightly as he looked at it. In the box, a tiny card mentioned what it was made of. Elf-made white gold, the owl's perfectly white parts made of the purest pearls found by Merpeople, the black onyx that made the specks Harry was familiar with due to Hedwig found by dwarfs, amber eyes that seemed ancient... It wouldn't stand out too much, hidden under his shirt. When he put the chain on, he could feel the energy from it: warm, comforting, protective... right.

He smiled at it. He felt like he had Hedwig with him and it felt good, knowing that. It wasn't the same as having his owl, his first friend, there with him but it was a little better.

"I need to go get something," Harry said, hugging Bathilda again. "Thank you so much."

"Happy Birthday Gellert!" Bathilda beamed happily at him and ruffled his hair before going inside. Harry chuckled as he heard her turn on the radio and begin to sing with it.

Harry tried to tune it out, but hearing, "Oh, my sweet cauldron, it aches with my looooooooooooooove! Ooo, ooo, ooo, a cooking pot doesn't compare to youuuuuuuuuu!" was rather hard to ignore. Especially when Bathilda's voice was so utterly off-key...

Instead of going right to the pub, Harry went to a few stores. He bought a birthday card, a small cake, and some candy (both Magical and Muggle, because darn it, he still liked Mars Bars and if Grindelwald would like them too, then all was well), since he was pretty sure wherever Grindelwald was didn't have sweets. He had been a prisoner at the Dursleys for most of the summer before and that hadn't been fun at all.

And he had those questions...

The summer breeze blew gently around him. Harry sat under a tree and looked up, unable to resist smiling. Much like Hedwig, Ariel seemed to know when she was needed, because she had flown next to him.

"Are you all right with a little package?" Harry asked. "I'll make it lightweight."

The little bird ruffled its feathers importantly and looked at Harry with steely determination.

"All right then. Let me just do this..." He took out a pen and began to write.

_Gellert,_

_Happy Birthday! I sent you a little gift. I hope you like it. And the diversity will be good for you with the sweets, it'll show that you've changed enough to appreciate the delicious goods that are Muggle sweets._

_Thanks for your help. The Hold wasn't for anything bad, just for some knowledge folks really shouldn't know just yet. But it raised questions. Well, for me anyway._

_What did you mean when you said intentions for magic? I don't quite understand that. I mean, I know you have to want the spell and picture it and all of that, but somehow I don't think that's what you were talking about._

_The other thing... what do you know about horcruxes? Specifically, how to destroy them. I know remorse is one method, but if it has to be destroyed by someone that didn't make it, is there a way? Since you can guess that because remorse won't work, it's not mine, if you were thinking that._

Harry stared at it and decided to write the question that nagged at him.

_Speaking of though... you didn't... make any horcruxes, did you? I don't mean to offend, but... well... I guess I'm just curious._

Harry looked over the letter and decided to continue.

_Things have been hectic here. We have a new Minister of Magic and he's getting a lot of... I don't know, doubts would be the best word I suppose. He's young, only a few years older than me, but he's been making changes already. There were a lot of things I didn't know that I learned, like Dementors being considered inhumane for prisons. But you didn't use them for yours, did you? So what did you use?_

_If you don't like talking about it, I understand. I was just curious._

_Thanks for everything and try to have a pleasant birthday._

Harry signed the letter and put everything in a package before making it lightweight and sending it off with Ariel. He watched the bird fly for a bit until she was out of sight, then, glancing at the snowy owl on his chain, Harry smiled and walked to the pub.

Finally, he reached the werewolf settlement. He noticed it was oddly empty and silent and saw Callahan glowering over the lake.

_Glowering_. It was a look to rival Snape's glare, or perhaps even beat it. Harry felt scared of the usually kind man and almost didn't approach him. "C-Cal?" He stammered.

That glare was turned to him, "I will ask you once." His voice was so soft and yet Harry heard every word.

Were he and Snape related? They sure acted the same when angry...

"W-What is it?" Harry asked.

"Did you take _anything_ of mine?"

"What? No!" Harry looked at him with surprise. "Why did you think that?"

"All of my... personal... things are _missing._" The man looked positively furious still. "_Everything_. From my wigs to my mascara to my foundation to my _conditioner!_"

Oh. Crisis averted. Harry had thought it was something important. "Did you ask the girls?"

"Do you think that you have to be female to want to look attractive?" The man demanded.

"Er, you know, gotta run, lots to do, bye!" Harry was _not_ going to get into any kind of discussion on _that_ with the man. The last thing he needed was for that to come up some other time and Bathilda to hear it. Wasn't it bad enough he had a little old lady trying to ensure that him and... Harry couldn't repress the shudder at the thought of Bathilda trying to get him and Dumbledore together for another tea time. If she heard Harry talking about makeup or anything, there would be absolutely no saving his sanity.

He entered his cousin's tent to be met with a wand pointing directly at his face. "Um... hi?" Harry offered, holding up his hands to show he came in peace.

If he was interrogated about makeup...

Scrimgeour looked at him, "Oh, it's you."

"Hey Light," Dudley said, looking over. "Come on in."

Harry could see the others there, looking pleased about something. He noticed Madam Bones and Percy were there too. Both gave him polite smiles.

"Take a look," Dudley indicated the long scroll of parchment on the table before them.

Percy yawned, covering his mouth with his hand, "We've been working on it for a few hours now. Let us know what you think."

Harry walked over to the parchment and glanced at Dudley, "Did _you_ take his things?" he asked in a low voice.

Dudley shook his head, "He's been hunting since he got back. Nobody here has them."

"Personally, I suspect a charm or something that went off when he got back," Grace said, thinking. "And it wasn't you, so we're out of ideas."

"It's like someone's just messing with him," Blades said, stretching and looking thoughtful. "Not trying to hurt him or anything, just mess with him a bit."

_Just mess with him a bit..._ the words echoed in Harry's head as he looked over the parchment before his eyes widened.

Oh no.

_A charm._ _Someone messing with him._

For some reason, Harry didn't suspect the twins, but he had a suspicion that old habits could die hard... but what would Sirius do with someone's makeup and the like?

Why did he have the sneaking suspicion he was going to find out sooner or later?

He pushed the worries of makeup being stolen from his mind before pursuing the actual important matter of the parchment in front of him. There wasn't too much legal or political jargon, surprisingly; it was all rather straight-forward, much like he and Percy had discussed. Registering with the Ministry actually made sense, since they would be making sure everyone got the Wolfsbane. Education, helping with jobs and the like... basically just treating them like normal people.

It made Harry want to cry. Years of inequality and the like taken away so easily, by a small group? Why hadn't anyone else done this?

He could mope over the past or be glad that he was helping to change the future. Harry decided to go with the second option.

"Remus also said he'll take the job," Dudley said, giving a weak smile.

Percy looked tired, "He practically begged me to put him into Azkaban after he learned about what he had done to those Centaurs and the risk to the first years. But we convinced him that we'll have people around to make sure it doesn't happen again. And well, I don't really want to regulate things too much, but what are first years even _doing_ in a forest at night serving a _detention _unsupervised? They're _eleven._" The irritation was obvious in Percy's voice and on his face.

Harry had a very vivid recollection of coming face to face with Quirrelmort when he had been in his first year. And he could remember that poor dead unicorn. Percy was right. What had the teachers been thinking, assigning them there? He had gotten lucky. What if Firenze hadn't shown up, if he had listened to the other Centaurs?

The idea of what-ifs made Harry shudder. He had been lucky, but... but Myrtle hadn't been. It could really have been luck of the draw. Wasn't one student's death one death too many? And the Triwizard tournament... Cedric's death... another school event. Admittedly, that had been for students of age and there had been precautions and the like, but from what Harry could see of the Minister's office, how had it been authorized? Percy had even asked how the tournament went on with his papers still unread.

What if there had been something regarding his being in it that had been ignored? Harry knew it was too late to fix it, but still, it made him wonder.

"This is excellent," Harry said, nodding. "I'm glad-"

Everyone turned, hearing the tent open. Scrimgeour had his wand pointed at someone that Harry didn't recognize.

"Peasegood, what's going on?" Madam Bones asked, looking concerned. Harry could see that Scrimgeour had raised an eyebrow, just as confused.

"It was sheer dumb luck," he said. "The Dementors were none-too-happy when we got rid of them. They've been flying all around, causing a right mess of things and keeping us busy."

Percy shut his eyes, looking tired. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize Minister, you did the right thing." The man grinned at Percy. "Anyway-"

"How?" Harry asked, confused. "Muggles can't see Dementors."

He knew that first-hand.

"No, but they can see a patronus," Peasegood answered. "And that's exactly what happened. So I had to go to the Forest of Dean and I was going to obliviate two people when they said their daughter went to Hogwarts. Muggleborn! Well, before I could say anything, someone said, 'It's true sir' and there was Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter? He's all right?" Percy had stood, looking concerned.

Harry could see that it wasn't just a political concern, which was nice. When all was said and done, no matter how he might deny it, Percy cared about him a little.

"The Dementors didn't... do anything, did they?" Percy asked.

"No sir," Peasegood answered. "Harry Potter drove them away. Had his owl with him too. Said he was going to send her to his friends. Figured I'd come here and let you know."

Percy looked at Dudley, "Would you like to meet your cousin?"

"Would I?" Dudley managed to look excited, "Hell yeah."

Harry thought for a brief moment. How had Sirius gotten his wand? Oh. He knew how. Hedwig. She wasn't exactly a dumb owl. He felt affection for his pet and hoped that she wouldn't be too upset with him basically leaving her for a bit.

"Let me get Callahan, he'll want to meet him too." Dudley rushed out and a few moments later returned with Callahan. "All right, how are we going to get there?"

"I'm presuming that someone made a portkey?" Percy inquired.

"Yes sir, left the paperwork on your desk."

Percy nodded and accepted the box that Peasegood held out. Dudley gave Harry a look and he put his hand on it. So did Callahan, Dudley, Madam Bones, and Scrimgeour. Soon, they were gone and in a rather gorgeous forest.

Harry could see that his cousin liked traveling by portkey about as much as he did, meaning not at all.

He could see Dr. Granger, Dr. Granger, and Sirius. The Grangers smiled at them and Harry felt a surge of affection towards Hermione's family. She had probably just told them a friend needed their help and they hadn't hesitated.

"Percy?" Sirius asked, after glancing at Harry who gave a brief nod. "What are you doing here?"

"I... heard you were here," Percy said, sounding more unsure than Harry could remember him sounding. "It's a bit of a long story." He looked amused at this and Harry couldn't help but smile himself. He noticed a few of the others were doing the same as well.

Sirius nodded, looking around. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"I have no doubt they will be here sooner than I expect," Percy said, a wry grin on his face. "Along with Headmaster Dumbledore."

Harry noticed Scrimgeour gripped his wand tighter and even Madam Bones looked a little more grim. Why was the Ministry so against the Headmaster?

Sirius nodded once more, "So who are these people?"

Percy introduced all of them, leaving Dudley and Callahan for last. "And this... this is your cousin, Dudley Dursley, and his guardian, Alchemist Thomas Callahan."

The urge to applaud the reaction was barely held back. Harry watched as Sirius just stared at Dudley as if they had never met, the sheer longing for family obvious on his face. It went away quickly, with Sirius looking at the ground before looking back at Dudley and Callahan.

"It's... it's good to finally see you, in person," Dudley said, swallowing hard and just looking at Sirius with awe.

Harry wondered if his cousin had taken theater in school.

He watched as the two shook hands and it turned into a hug.

And then heard footsteps. He turned. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore stood there, Ron and Hermione looking a bit sick. Harry wondered if they had held on while Apparating. It'd explain the queasy looks.

Callahan seemed to instinctively take a step away from the Headmaster. Harry noticed that both Madam Bones and Scrimgeour seemed to take a step closer to Percy and both had their hands on their wands.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Percy said, sounding unsurprised as he nodded his head politely. "I thought we'd see you."

"Minister Weasley," Dumbledore answered, also nodding to him.

"Ron, Hermione!" Sirius smiled at them.

"Harry!" Hermione ran and hugged him tightly, making Harry rather grateful he had such good friends. Ron walked over and patted Sirius, both talking.

"I think we should go," Madam Bones said quietly to Percy.

Harry felt eyes boring into him and noticed Dumbledore looking directly at him. It wasn't the kind of look he was used to from Dumbledore, not at all. It seemed like his blue eyes were made of flames, and Harry had the distinct feeling that he would have been incinerated on the spot from the look. Dumbledore did _not_ like him, that was obvious from the look.

Percy must have noticed too, since he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked back at Dumbledore, "Light will be present at our meeting later today, Headmaster. He is still in school and can offer other opinions that those of us outside of it may have forgotten or not thought of."

A quick risk at Percy revealed that he looked extremely serene, extremely calm. It was as if he and Dumbledore had switched places and it felt quite strange to Harry.

"Of course, Minister." Dumbledore's voice sounded calm and he seemed the self that Harry knew as he looked at Percy.

"If you want to talk or anything, just use your owl," Dudley was saying to Sirius.

"I will," Sirius said, shaking his hand. "I... It was really good, to meet you. Both of you."

Callahan gave a smile and clasped Dudley's shoulder. Soon, they all left, returning to the werewolf settlement. "Are you really meeting with him tonight?" Harry asked.

"I am," Percy answered easily. "And I meant that, if you would come. Any of you, actually." He indicated everyone. "How many beings here have the gift of magic that won't be allowed into Hogwarts? I lifted that in the agreement. I'm sure he'll agree, he always talks about equality."

"Talks," Callahan muttered so softly that Harry knew he was the only one that heard it.

"It was an honor to meet with you," Percy said, shaking Dudley's hand and doing the same for everyone. "If you need me or anything, please come get me. If you can't reach me, Madam Bones or Rufus can help you too. I might be going all around, but if you need me..."

"If we need you, we'll be in touch," Dudley said with a smile.

"... Where are you going now?" Blades asked, curious.

"I'm meeting with the Goblins," Percy said, looking tired. "They're feeling pretty anti-wizard at the moment."

"Nothing new there," Scrimgeour muttered.

Percy gave him a mild glare, before he turned back to the others, "Ragnok, their leader, hasn't stopped raging about the Bagman business. He only agreed to meet with me because I _did_ put out an order for arrest regarding Ludo Bagman. He said that he had thought that the Ministry did a cover-up, since the Goblins never got their gold from him." Another wry grin, "I did tell him that my brothers also had money stolen from them courtesy of Ludo Bagman. That stopped the raging long enough for him to grunt an agreement for a meeting."

"But goblins hate witches and wizards," Grace said, shaking her head. "My father always said they never wanted to compromise."

Scrimgeour and Madam Bones both nodded. Harry glanced at Percy, who was looking up into the sky. Finally, he looked back at everyone, looked around. "Ever since 1612, tensions between the groups haven't been pleasant. It was even worse after 1631."

"What happened in 1631?" Dudley asked, looking surprised. Harry understood why. How could grudges be carried for so long?

"The Wand Ban." Percy said it quietly.

"Well, that makes sense, only people that can fully do magic really need wands for control reasons," Jinx said, waving her hand dismissively.

The youngest Minister looked older than anyone there at that moment as he explained, "Not exactly. The Wand Ban forbids Non-Human Magical Beings such as house-elves or giants to carry a wand. Now yes, goblins can do magic without wands, but many view that as immaterial."

"Why?" Harry was curious now.

"Because they feel that so long as we Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, we are denying them the possibility of extending their powers."

Scrimgeour scoffed, "If they weren't so bloody vicious, they could be trusted."

Percy said nothing, looking instead over the lake.

When the silence stretched from seconds to minutes, everyone began to look at him.

Even Madam Bones was looking at him and said, with a tone akin to almost panic, "Minister, you are _not_ thinking about trying to overturn the Wand Ban. That's just madness!"

"... When you work hard for something," Percy said, his voice shaking, "then you deserve it. You trust the Goblins with your money and your relics but not a wand? You wouldn't be vicious and angry if you were second-class citizens?"

Nobody spoke. Harry didn't know what to say either. He had never thought of it that way.

Percy looked at Harry and Scrimgeour first before he looked at everyone around him. "I said before that I thought the Fountain of Magical Brethren was a lie. I had it removed. If you think I've really lost my sanity, tell me now. Among people smarter or younger or in the same boat. Tell me one good reason we are denying our fellow beings equality."

"Percy," Dudley said, looking at him worriedly. "Look, you're... you're definitely going to be one of the best Ministers we have. You want fair rights, don't you think that..." He looked around.

Tweak said it quietly, "Don't you think you're committing political suicide? You won't have a career after this. You're _finished._ Is that what you want for your future? For our future? They'll just overturn these things and you won't have any influence..."

"It's a sad day when doing the right thing is called political suicide," Percy said simply. "Thinking only about my future made me a selfish idiot." He took a deep breath and continued, "Besides those reasons?"

Silence. Even Scrimgeour looked thoughtful, and he asked the question that everyone was thinking. "Do you really think that you can overturn _centuries_ of legislation, centuries of bigotry, in your short term? Do you think that... that... Minister, you're one person. You can't possible imagine changing everything in a few months."

"You're right, if I try to operate alone," Percy confirmed, giving him a smile. "But I'm not alone." He indicated everyone around him. "You... no." He made a face, "If... If V-Voldemort is back, then he will want the Ministry. Dumbledore wants the support of the Ministry. So obviously we've got power. We have power _as a group._"

"People will protest," Madam Bones said quietly. "Even within the Ministry, people won't agree and anyone that wants to get elected..." She stopped and realized what she had just said and began to laugh. "That's what you're saying, isn't it? Anyone willing to stand with you has to be willing to lose their position. Very well. It's been so long since we've had anyone with courage lead us. Let's try to change the world, Minister."

Harry felt a knot in his stomach.

_Not alone._ But they were hiding things from Percy, important ones. He could see Dudley looking at him.

They would have to talk about this later.

"Our job's to fight dark wizards and injustice," Scrimgeour said, shrugging. "I was hired to do my job. Just hope I can take the fighting. I'm not as young as you lot."

"This is cool," Jinx said, making everyone turn. "What? We're living in a time that's definitely going to go down in history no matter what."

Everyone chuckled, and Harry nodded. She was right.

"Well," he said, looking at Percy. "Is it okay if I go to the meetings and stuff with you?"

"It's fine with me," Percy said, nodding. "You represent the werewolves, after all. Economy is important to you too."

Harry looked at Dudley, who nodded, and his friends, who did the same. Callahan just clasped his shoulder briefly.

"Minister. It's time for us to go," Madam Bones said. "I shall present this to the Wizengamot." She lifted the scroll of what they had discussed regarding werewolves.

"Thank you," Percy said. "Light, are you ready?"

Harry nodded and got ready for the queasy sensation of side-along Apparation as he gripped Scrimgeour's arm.

Yes. It still felt strange.

"Enh..." He muttered, looking around. The sight of Diagon Alley met his eyes.

"You all right?" Scrimgeour asked, looking over him.

"Yeah," Harry said, turning.

He could see the snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was a goblin. They walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with that warning engraved on them. Harry still felt disturbed by it.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. They made for the counter.

"Good afternoon," Percy said politely to a free goblin. "We're here for our meeting with Ragnok."

The goblin looked at them and wrinkled his nose, "And you are?"

"My name is Percy Weasley. These are my associates. Ragnok knew they'd be here for our meeting."

The goblin on their right, who had been weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals, turned and spoke before the one helping them did. "Percy Weasley? The new Minister of Magic?"

Percy said nothing, choosing to just nod, his attention obviously elsewhere.

Harry turned to see what he was looking at.

Oh.

Bill Weasley was standing across the room, looking at his brother.

"Right this way, Minister," the goblin said.

"Come along, Minister," Madam Bones said briskly.

"Duty calls," Scrimgeour said, prodding Percy gently with his walking stick.

Percy nodded and followed the goblin.

Harry could see a look flicker over Bill's face, a look of pain, before he looked at Harry and glared. What was going on here? First Dumbledore and now Bill Weasley? Harry hadn't even met Bill while disguised! He caught up to Percy, "You know him?" He asked quietly.

"My brother," Percy answered back, following the goblin still and not looking at any of them. "My oldest brother, Bill. He works here."

Harry just nodded and soon they were shown into an office. It was expensive and fancy, too much so to really be memorable. Harry found he preferred Percy's simple office full of papers. It showed work got done, at the least.

"I wasn't expecting so large an entourage," the goblin behind the desk said, staring at them with very dark, slanted eyes that seemed full of suspicion. He said something that Harry wasn't familiar with.

Percy obviously was, because he responded in kind. Then he spoke in English, introducing everyone.

"Sit," Ragnok said. He looked amused at something, as he curled his lip. "Weasley. I have someone here that looks like you. He works for me. William. Perhaps I should have had you deal with my human instead."

Harry didn't understand, but Percy looked _irritated._ "Your business is not our business." The words couldn't have been colder. "We'll see ourselves out." He turned and walked to the door, leaving Harry, Madam Bones, and Scrimgeour gaping in shock. He had been the one to want to negotiate!

"Percy," Harry tried.

"No," he said flatly, opening the door. He had walked a few steps, not looking back or turning.

Ragnok said something, in the other language, Gobbledegook, but Percy didn't even pause. Finally, the goblin said, loudly so that Percy could hear, "I apologize, Minister. I've let internal prejudices get the better of me."

He stood in the hallway, not turning for a time. Harry risked a look at Ragnok, whose face was a blank slate. When Percy returned, so was his. He sat, silent, nothing revealed on his face. Harry wasn't sure whether to be impressed or worried.

Harry waited for someone to talk, but neither Percy nor Ragnok seemed inclined to speak. He glanced at Madam Bones and Scrimgeour, both of whom shrugged. Harry glanced back at Percy, who was just staring Ragnok down. The goblin was staring steadily back.

Finally, after what really seemed like ages-Harry didn't have the nerve to check the time-Ragnok spoke, "You got rid of the lie."

"The house elves did."

"At your request."

"I cannot deny that," Percy answered.

The goblin gave an odd smile, a cunning one. "You are a strange wizard, Minister Weasley. Why have you come today?"

Percy withdrew a folder and put it on the desk. Harry recognized it-the file on Goblins. "I want to know what of that is pertinent. I also wanted to inform you in person that Ludo Bagman will be found and placed into prison."

"We saw that. You did not cover his deeds up. We were most... surprised."

"I bet."

Harry didn't understand why Percy was taking such a sarcastic tone. What was _with_ him?

Ragnok smiled again, leaving Harry confused. He didn't understand how these negotiations were going. Good or bad, he didn't know. But Ragnok chuckled and began to read the file. He would point at some of the parchment and it'd be gone. Soon, the thick file had been culled quite a fair bit and Ragnok looked at Percy.

"You want to remove the wand ban."

Silence. Thicker and heavier than any blanket than Harry had ever seen, the silence enveloped the room.

"Why?" Ragnok asked, eyes gleaming and his pointed teeth showing. He was on his desk and a sword was pointed at Percy's throat.

Harry hadn't even realized his wand was out until he noticed that everyone except Percy had theirs out.

"What game do you play human?" Ragnok snarled, the sword pressed to Percy's throat. "You may kill me or arrest me, _wizards_, but your boy will be gone."

"Minister-"

"Put your wands down," Percy said, almost tiredly. "He's got nothing to gain by killing me and we both know it."

"Nothing to gain! Minister, you are-" Madam Bones began.

"You misunderstand," Percy said easily. "There is no financial gain. No granting of rights. If anything, there will be more discrimination and more riots. No, he is only seeing how sure I am, how much I really want peace. Now lower your wands or leave."

The sword stayed at his throat and Harry couldn't seem to make himself lower his wand. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Perce, are you sure about this?"

"If you can't comply, go on," Percy answered calmly. How could he be so calm? Harry didn't understand but, his hand shaking the entire time, he gradually lowered his wand. He could see Madam Bones doing the same.

Scrimgeour didn't.

"My duty is to protect the Minister, Goblin," he snapped. "Lower your blade."

Ragnok pressed the sword closer.

"_Ex-"_

"_Expelliarmus."_ Percy said it, pointing his wand at Scrimgeour, causing the Auror's eyes to widen as Percy caught his wand.

It was silent once more. "Your guards are not protecting you. You are at my mercy, human."

Percy was silent. Harry could see why-the point was obvious. What needed to be said?

It was a very long few minutes before Ragnok took the blade away from Percy's neck and sat back down, staring at him.

"... You will live in interesting times," the Goblin said slowly, not looking away from Percy. "If we have wands, one day we may be greater than you wizards."

A smile touched Percy's lips. "No," he said, and Harry could see he was being completely honest, "because whatever we do, we'll do it together. Human, Goblin, and every being that is in our community. We give our knowledge, far later than we should have, I will admit, but we will give it and it will continue."

"Strange. You are not like the other one. The heart of a lion, he has, but still very... very much to learn. You... you are interesting, for a human. We shall keep our eyes on you, Minister Weasley." Ragnok smiled once more and said something in Gobbledegook.

Percy stood, replied something back and said, in English, "You will know when Bagman is caught and Madam Bones will be filing the motion regarding the wand ban soon."

"And when there are complaints?" Ragnok asked.

A smile that rivaled the Goblin's was on Percy's face, "You control the economy. Why don't you remind them of that fact?"

Ragnok's eyes widened and he did something that surprised Harry.

He _laughed._

"You _are_ interesting, Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic! Then we shall do that. Good day, sir."

"And to you, sir." Percy led the way out, Harry unsure about what to do or say. He could see both Madam Bones and Scrimgeour utterly _gaping_ at Percy and both were completely silent until they got out of the bank.

"Sir, I say this with the utmost respect but _are you insane?"_ Scrimgeour demanded as they got outside.

"No, why? Oh, here's your wand back." Percy handed it back and Scrimgeour practically snatched it.

"Why? _Why?"_ Scrimgeour was just staring at Percy with complete disbelief. "You just sat there and let a goblin threaten you! You _disarmed _me when I tried to defend you!"

"It's a Goblin tradition for their leaders," Percy said giving Scrimgeour a look. "I want to say if the sword draws blood it shows the leader is lying. It's something along those lines. If you had hit him with a spell, he would have lost control of the sword and I probably _would_ have died."

"You seem really calm about that," Harry said nervously.

"I was petrified," Percy admitted. "But I knew the risks going in. Now come on..." He looked at his watch. "We have to get back for that meeting with Dumbledore. I swear, if it's not paperwork, it's meetings. Why would anyone want this job..."

Harry just chuckled, remembering all of the times Ron had said that Percy's dream was to be Minister of Magic. Well, it seemed he didn't like the reality of it very much, but at least he was actually _working_ on things, unlike Fudge.

They reached the Ministry Atrium, Harry groaning at the feel of Apparating yet again.

"You know," he complained to Percy as they walked. "Why can't you lower the age to fifteen so I don't have to keep clinging to someone?"

"Surprisingly, you are not the first person to ask about that," Percy said, glancing at Harry. "A lot of Muggleborn parents have written about younger Apparation laws and complaining about the Trace."

"Really?"

"The way it works is strange. I'll have to tell you about it later, but a few people have suggested fifteen as the age, the logic being if people can have career advice at age fifteen, why not the ability to at least travel places as well?" He led the way and stopped, looking where the Fountain of Magical Brethren used to be.

What was there now was utterly gorgeous. It seemed as if it were all water, but so delicate and fine that Harry wondered if it were crystal. The shimmers caused by the motion and the lights and shadows almost made it seem like a show of some sort and it seemed every time he looked, something else drew his attention.

"Like it?"

"It's gorgeous," Harry admitted, looking at it for a few more moments before walking with Percy. But he could see he wasn't the only one who liked it; there seemed to be far more money tossed into the fountain than Harry had seen before.

They went to Percy's office, which Harry noticed seemed halfway clean now. Percy really had been busy. He was helping Percy with the paperwork once more when Dumbledore showed up.

"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore," Percy said, standing up.

"Good evening, Minister Weasley," Dumbledore answered, shaking Percy's hand.

"Please sit and don't mind the paperwork, I have a fair bit to catch up on."

Dumbledore nodded, "I can see that." He smiled, though Harry noticed that it was lacking its usual warmth when the Headmaster looked at him. "And you've been making quite a few changes." There was no smile now, only a cool statement, "For the greater good, I believe the newspapers said?"

It was strange how he was glancing more at Harry than at Percy when he said that.

What was with the Headmaster?

"You understand better than most about doing things others don't agree with," Percy said, looking at Dumbledore. Harry had the strange feeling that it was a silent duel. He could see Scrimgeour and Madam Bones standing, both looking ready to whip their wands out on a whim. "Anyway, I have a reason for having requested this meeting, if I may get to it?"

"By all means, Minister."

"Before Minister Fudge left, he made a number of educational decrees that were passed." Percy slid a file to Dumbledore, "I made a copy for your convenience since my predecessor conveniently forgot that you needed a copy."

"Thank you." Dumbledore took the file.

"I've also taken the liberty of talking to someone for your open Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I have no doubt he will have your approval, seeing as you hired him before." Percy smiled, "I'm referring, of course, to Professor Remus Lupin."

Dumbledore looked, for the first time that Harry could recall, surprised. "He agreed?"

"Yes, though I did assure him that I would be sending a minimum of two Aurors to patrol the grounds at all times. That would be one of the other reasons I asked you to come here today."

"Two Aurors at all times? Surely you don't think that Hogwarts is unsafe?" Dumbledore seemed surprised.

"I _do_ think that it is unsafe," Percy said, looking at Dumbledore. He took a deep breath and then began, "A few years ago, a troll got in and could have killed a few first year students, one of which was my brother. And later that school year, my youngest brother's best friend was almost murdered by a teacher- twice if I recall. A cursed book caused my sister to sic a sixty foot Basilisk on Muggle-borns while in school before she was dragged to the Chamber of Secrets where my youngest brother and his best friend had to rescue her, mind you, not a member of the staff. There wasn't security so Professor Lupin, when going to save my brother and his two friends yet _again_, forgot his potion injured some of the Centaurs and could have killed some first years! Incidentally_,_ who assigns eleven-year-olds detentions after curfew in a forest which you have said repeatedly is forbidden? Last year, a boy died in a tournament, my former boss died on the grounds, there was an impostor for the entire year teaching while the real professor was locked up in a trunk inside of the school and you think your school is _safe?" _He was practically shouting when he finished, angry.

Dumbledore looked... stunned. He was silent for a long time before saying, "You are judging the entire school's safety based off a handful of incidents?"

"A handful of incidents?" Percy's voice was so soft that Harry knew he was trying to keep from shouting.

"I understand that you are closely related to the people involved in most of these incidents-" Dumbledore began.

"Isn't one incident one too many, Headmaster?" Harry interrupted, looking at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster spared him a long look, "I don't think you are authorized to judge, young sir."

"And I do," Percy said softly. "Where he goes has yet to have _any_ of these incidents and many of the students would not have been accepted into Hogwarts, where the standards are, supposedly, higher. We are not discussing issues like that for them because _they do not have any._"

"Surely you can understand that some students have a knack for trouble finding them."

"And one would expect that you, understanding this, would actually _request_ security," Percy argued back. "In fact, it is your job as headmaster to ensure the safety of the students, is it not?"

Dumbledore seemed to have nothing to say to that, merely touching the tips of his fingers together in front of him and contemplating the words for a few moments. "I am concerned. The last time the Ministry thought we needed extra security... well, you were a student. I'm sure you remember all of the problems with the Dementors."

Percy narrowed his eyes, "The Ministry no longer associates itself with such creatures. It is why we are offering the services of Aurors. Most of them went to Hogwarts, actually, so one would expect you to have more faith in your graduates."

"I know what our graduates are capable of, Minister," Dumbledore said, looking a bit sad. "Not all of them have done good things."

"And those that would be don't have the education to help." Percy said it outright. "History is a joke. And if there's one thing we need, it's that. At this point, I'm tempted to ask you to put cultural courses into your curriculum. People know nothing about the other beings we share our world with. According to most students, Divination is a joke as well. And Defense Against the Dark Arts-mind you, _you're_ the one going around telling everyone that V-Voldemort is back! And you haven't even removed the jinx on the job to have a regular teacher! That really shows how seriously you're taking this threat, sir, no offense."

"I have personally on seven occasions tried to remove the jinx and have asked for the help of curse breakers twelve times. The curse breakers and I are quite baffled on how the jinx was put on the job. By all rules of logic, the job shouldn't be jinxed if you take a look at the wards and enchantments on the castle and its grounds."

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow, "But it's affecting people?"

"Well, yes. We haven't been able to have a teacher in that position last more than one school year since I became Headmaster. Some have died, some had horrible accidents, some had family emergencies, others just resigned. Very few come back to teach again and even then it's at least after one school year has gone by. A few have claimed they felt they were going mad, but... that does not help the problem."

Why did that sound familiar? Not the jinx, every Hogwarts student knew those rumors. But... the effects...

They spoke about the position for a bit, but Harry's mind was somewhere else. Why...

_Dark objects, curses, and effects on people..._ _c'mon Potter, think... _

And something, somehow, Harry didn't know exactly what it was, but Hermione's words came back to him. What Dark Wizard wanted immortality and would've made horcruxes? Hogwarts had had a basilisk sleeping in it for centuries and nobody had known! What if this horcrux was affecting the school? And Voldemort had gone to Hogwarts, he would know places to hide things! He could even have hidden it in the Chamber of Secrets!

"What if it's not exactly a curse or a jinx?" Harry asked slowly, making everyone look at him.

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, looking almost suspicious.

Harry thought about how to phrase it without saying horcrux. He would have to tell the others to look for... something. "What if it's an object?"

"You seem to have put a bit of thought into making sure things that cause effects like that stay hidden," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry with outright suspicion.

Percy spoke, "I don't like the insinuation, Headmaster. Have you looked for objects that might be doing it?"

"Not as such, since I don't really know of anything that could cause such things to happen. Do you?" It was said to Harry.

He shook his head, "No. It was just a thought."

"Just a thought to you, young man?"

Harry gave him a look, one that had all the irritation and anger he could muster. "Just. A. Thought."

"I would have thought someone like you would have put thoughts into actions by now. Perhaps... looking hard for people to help you on your way?" Dumbledore was giving him that fierce glare once more.

And it clicked. It had taken a while, but it finally clicked.

Dumbledore saw the disguise but not Harry. Every time he looked at Harry, he saw a young Dark Lord. Aberforth had even told Harry that his disguise looked just like Gellert Grindelwald, that Dumbledore had a past with him.

Oh this was just lovely.

The last thing he needed right now was suspicions regarding horcruxes. But how was he supposed to get around it? And Dumbledore kept saying something, kept... implying that he knew something.

That day at Bathilda's house, had the Headmaster gone through his things?

Harry wouldn't have thought Dumbledore capable of such a thing, but if he had... then he might have seen the cloak and the ring...

Wait.

Sirius had said that Dumbledore had thought he was dead, because of the cloak. He had said that there was a boy following in the footsteps...

_Oh dear._

Dumbledore thought he was trying to be a Dark Lord?

Perhaps taking the silence as a victory, Dumbledore continued, "So you have found a good Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and will be increasing security. Are there any other changes?"

"One," Percy admitted. "I've been contacting the ICW a bit. I asked if one of their education specialists would mind inspecting the school, since the authorization calls for a High Inquistor, but I don't think things are that horrible just yet."

"I quite agree," Dumbledore said.

"Although it's strange," Percy said, one hand on Harry's shoulder. "Only Hogwarts has these issues. The state schools are inspected yearly."

Harry smiled, knowing what Percy was doing. He was showing solidarity, showing that he had seen how Dumbledore was acting towards Harry and that he was on Harry's side. "But I was a student there myself. I know that most of the teachers are good, though some could use lessons in being fair or interesting. However, as I said, I would suggest cultural additions. Also, we _might_ lower the Apparation age to fifteen, but that has yet to be decided. If it is changed, you will be informed."

"Thank you." Dumbledore stood up, "Good luck, Minister."

"And to you as well."

They watched the Headmaster leave and Percy turned to Scrimgeour, "I meant to ask, have you picked the Aurors to be assigned there?"

"Yes," Scrimgeour answered. "Nymphadora Tonks is young, the students will relate better to her and she's a metamorphmagus. She'll be able to blend in if need be. The other will be Kingsley Shacklebolt, since, if Sirius Black is innocent, we can use his resources elsewhere. And either way, Black was at Hogwarts before, and so was Pettigrew if your brother was right. Those two seem to work well together and won't mind basically living at Hogwarts. Tonks in particular will probably love the food aspect..."

Harry bit back a laugh, imagining an Auror agreeing to something just for the food. It sounded very much like something Ron would do.

Percy smiled as well, "And just in case... have you someone for the Muggle Prime Minister? Nice man, when we met. I'd hate for anything to happen to him."

Scrimgeour nodded, "Hestia Jones. A bit young, but she's excellent at her job."

"All right then." Percy looked exhausted, "I'm going to get back to this. Thank you, for staying here and everything."

"It's our job, Minister," Scrimgeour said, amused.

"Besides, the real problem will be when some people begin to protest... I can hear other members of the Wizengamot now..."

"That's something I meant to bring up," Percy said quietly. "I noticed that out of fifty seats on the Wizengamot, only about seven are elected?"

Everyone nodded and Madam Bones explained, "The others are appointed by the Minister or inherited."

"I was thinking... maybe we need more positions on it," Percy murmured.

Harry remembered Fudge's trial and the ones he had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. He slowly chuckled, "We're really going to turn this place upside down, aren't we?"

Percy just smiled and the two began to work on paperwork, Harry curious as to when exactly his life had really gotten so hectic.

It was late as usual when he returned to Bathilda's cottage. He took out his pensieve and siphoned quite a few thoughts into it. He wanted to make sure he remembered this day clearly, remembered how the goblins had acted and what changes would be for the werewolves...

And maybe figure out how to show Dumbledore he wasn't dark.

It took a while, but Harry felt calmer after knowing the jumble of thoughts he had had in his head for the past few days were sorted out.

His head touched the pillow and sleep had found him.

And the dream... a dream that was no dream. Harry could feel it through the connection, and...

Voldemort was irritated, looking out the window at the night sky.

"This boy is causing more trouble than I thought him capable of."

A Death Eater looked at the wall, saying nothing.

"Isn't he a politician? Just bribe him."

A voice, familiar to Harry, the voice of Lucius Malfoy, said, "Someone tried that sir. Clifford Nott did and was put into Azkaban for it."

"A politician that doesn't accept bribes?" Voldemort was very obviously surprised. "No matter. Get close to put him under Imperius, then."

"We cannot, sir. He is always with others. They will not leave him alone. Even when he met with the old fool today, he had people with him."

"Names, Lucius," Voldemort said softly. "I want names."

"Madam Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour and that boy, the blond-haired boy," Lucius Malfoy answered quickly. "The werewolf ambassador, the one they call Light."

"The other two are high profile. Find that boy."

"We cannot, my Lord. He is trailed by... by Dumbledore. The old fool watches him. We do not know why."

Voldemort was furious and snapped, "The old fool's Order has taken over the Ministry, then?"

"No, my Lord. Quite the opposite."

"Then what is this boy of a Minister after?" Voldemort was irked still, "What does he gain from going to werewolves and goblins and lobbying for them? What does he gain from associating himself with them?"

"We do not know, sir."

"Then bribe the Wizengamot. Get them under our grasp. And do it _swiftly,_ Lucius."

"Yes my Lord!" Lucius Malfoy all but bolted from the room.

Voldemort paced the room, furious, and hissed, so loudly and full of anger that it made Harry bolt upright in his bed, gasping.

That was one angry Dark Lord. But if he was angry, then they were doing something right. So Percy really was serious about what he was doing, about making sure things got done right, meaning no bribes. Good to know.

Harry made sure his disguise was on before he went to his window, looking out it. Mr. Malfoy had said Dumbledore was watching him.

He was still irritated from their meeting earlier and perhaps that was why he did it. He breathed onto the window and wrote, backwards so that anyone watching him would be able to read it: _I see you._

A clump of bushes seemed to move in a way no wind could make them, as if someone were jumping, and Harry had to bite back a laugh. So people really were watching him. But he couldn't imagine Dumbledore making it obvious like that, so maybe it was someone in the Order that he had been told about.

He stayed there for a few seconds before he went to the pensieve, putting the memory of his vision into it. He didn't want it to fade and him to forget it.

After a few moments, he returned to the window. Godric's Hollow looked exactly as a small village would be expected to look in the early hours of the morning. All the curtains were closed. As far as Harry could see through the darkness that was turning into the early gray of dawn, things seemed normal.

He nodded. For his life now, this was as quiet as it was going to get, wasn't it? But he was sure that if he went somewhere, someone would be awake. He stretched, turned and opened his wardrobe. Without glancing at his reflection he started to get dressed before going down to make some breakfast.


	12. Chapter 12

_I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again.  
_ ~William Penn

* * *

**12.**

Harry spent some of the morning with Bathilda before he left, bothering Lex with normal things before going to the werewolf settlement.

"Light, may I speak with you a moment?" Callahan had a serious look on his face as Harry walked over.

"Um, just a minute, I've got to talk to Dudley-" Harry began, worrying about the makeup bit from the day before. He didn't need a talking to about _that_ again...

Callahan looked around; there was no one else around, so the man murmured, "Harry, this is important."

The use of his name from this man had the effect of making Harry feel ashamed, as if he had done something wrong. Callahan had gone above and beyond to help them, with the potions and everything, helping Sirius with his disguise and Harry had just tried to brush him off? He felt guilty. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Come on." He led the way to the main tent. "Dudley is out at the moment with the others. They're getting groceries."

"Oh." That made sense. "You stayed?"

"I was hoping you would come and I also have to return to my tent in twenty-two minutes." They entered the tent and the man looked at Harry. "I know you have been very busy lately, but... your godfather and I spoke about this, when I was brewing the antidote for him. Your education."

Harry didn't understand. "Can't I just go to St. Martin's with the others?"

"You're too far behind with the Muggle subjects. Hogwarts hasn't enabled you for that level of science or mathematics, let alone the other things. Also, you're posing as a late bloomer. You'll be too far ahead in the magical courses."

That thought hadn't occurred to Harry, and he was glad that others had thought about it. "So what did you and Sirius decide?"

"Due to your current status, being so close to the Minister and an ambassador, Black and I thought that it would work if I tutored you and you took your OWLs as an independent student. We figured that since you're supposedly a late bloomer, that changing your education would make sense and not be seen as strange since you're catching up with magic."

Harry felt stunned. "You're going to... you'll home school me? You... you _want_ to home school me?"

"Your godfather and I thought that it would be the best thing, so that you can still work on things and yet still get an education." The man smiled, "Besides, I'm technically your guardian, aren't I? At least I know what level of education you'll be getting." Callahan looked nervous, "Unless you don't want that? We thought it would-"

Harry hugged him tightly, surprising Callahan. "Thanks Cal. I... I'm just surprised. I... I..."

Callahan hugged him back and ruffled his hair, "You're not a bad kid. Whatever folks said otherwise, they were wrong. Got it?"

Harry blushed but nodded slowly, "Thanks Cal. I... I didn't even think about any of that."

"You kids. Everything's just fun and games and trying to turn the Ministry upside down." Callahan gave Harry a smile and put his palm to his forehead. "Oh! I almost forgot. I have a custody meeting with Harry Potter today. It'll be at the Ministry. I believe that it is keyed so you may have to be there. Would you mind going as Dudley's friend?"

Harry tilted his head, "A custody meeting?"

"Yes. Remember, the famous wizard hasn't met me yet and there are blood wards to my charge. Custody is an issue and since your godfather can't take you, well... if I refuse, it's basically the equivalent of the highest bidder due to your fame. We thought to avoid that that I'd have custody. Unless you'd prefer someone like Molly Weasley or Lupin, but in that case the wards will become an issue and then it'll be a rather messy legal situation."

Harry didn't know much about the magical version of child services and the like, but he knew the Muggle world's legal system could be rather sticky. And though trials were far shorter than Muggle ones, he could see the issue that Callahan and probably Sirius were concerned about. It made sense for him to be under Callahan's custody, so that way Dudley's situation wouldn't become an issue. "Why not?" Harry asked, grinning. "You're already my tutor. We'll just have Sirius say we're making up for years of lost time."

Callahan just chuckled and an odd little chime went off. "Oh dear! I must trot to my tent! Take care!" With that he ran, Harry wondering what potion the man was brewing this time. He chuckled and went to the flap, noticing the murmuring of voices and he could smell some yummy food. Harry followed the voices and found the large group lugging groceries.

"Need a hand?" He asked, seeing Dudley with quite a few large bags.

Blades and Grace began to laugh and Dudley groaned.

"What?" Harry asked.

"They asked me that, I said yes and they clapped," Dudley grumbled, mock-pouting. Harry could see the others were holding bags, but he couldn't help laughing himself. He took a few bags from Dudley, no clapping necessary, and helped them all put everything away. As he was doing this, he caught sight of the day's Daily Prophet and sighed at the headline proclaiming the protests going on about the changes that the Ministry was making.

Harry read the article, sighing.

_Mayhem has erupted..._ Harry read it, glaring. It was just like the Quidditch World Cup. People were protesting the changes Percy was suggesting, especially the Wand Ban. Most of them kept insulting Percy, saying he was too young to understand his position and its responsibilities.

"Insane, isn't it?" Dudley asked quietly, seeing what Harry was looking at. "Riots at the Ministry and other major magical areas."

"They're even protesting the suggestion of having more elected seats on the Wizengamot," Harry muttered, confused. "Why would they protest that?"

"Because it gives more power to the people." Grace said it quietly, making everyone look up. "Politicians don't represent the interests of the people. They look after the ones who get them elected. A lot of people don't even vote, since it's all the same. They've realised it's pointless, that whoever gets elected will just be a different shade of the 'we don't give a toss about you' party."

"So they're happy with that?" Harry demanded.

"The people who have the power right now are," Grace corrected, making Harry realize that it made sense. If he held all the power... he would be greedy. He could do what he wanted. To give that up...

"... Exactly how corrupt was the Ministry?" Harry asked slowly, realizing that part of him didn't really want to know.

"It corrupts most people," Blades muttered. "Grace's dad wasn't always like that, you know."

She nodded, looking sad, "He wouldn't have let me attend school or have any friends if he had been."

Power corrupted people... Harry had always heard that, but he had never really understood. "I've got to get to Percy. He's going to need support with all of this mess going on. I'll see you guys later." He left before anything more could be said, arriving at the Ministry.

It was insane. Shouting and fighting and spells were being fired left and right. Harry ducked and ran, seeing the lifts were full or broken. He went to the stairs instead, wincing. People were there too.

"It's only fair!"

"It's insane! Filthy half-breeds and Mudbloods will ruin this country!"

Harry ran past the people shouting on the steps and ran even faster past those shooting spells. How on earth did these people manage to get jobs working with the government with such obvious hatred of their fellow citizens? The hallway to Percy's office was crowded, so much so Harry knew it would be impossible to get through.

It was beyond insane. Harry could see the people in the hallway were outright dueling and fighting, not wasting time on shouting insults like the others.

He realized, with a bit of a jolt, he recognized some of them.

Every person on this floor fighting was a member of the Law Enforcement Department. And some of the ones protesting were Aurors!

Fire flew by Harry, who dropped to the ground, his eyes wide. He could see Scrimgeour and Madam Bones fending off others by the door, but it was utter bedlam. He made his way to them, inch by inch, knowing that trying to fight off the hit wizards and Aurors would just be sheer suicide, since nobody was holding back. Harry was positive he could see flashes of green light that was a sign of only one spell: The Killing Curse.

Scrimgeour did a triple take when he saw Harry but just inched the door open and shoved him into Percy's office, shooting off spells to cover him. Harry breathed deeply and looked towards Percy, who was in his office...

Who was in his office doing paperwork. "What are you _doing?"_ Harry exclaimed. "Haven't you seen what's going on?"

"I have," Percy answered. "But if I let the fact that some people don't like what I'm doing stop me, then nothing will be done or changed. I will do my job and _they won't stop me_." His blue eyes flashed dangerously behind his glasses. "I didn't want this but I'm not going to shy away from my responsibilities."

Harry shook his head, unsure about what to think. Sure, it was admirable that Percy was determined to do his job despite everything, but he might get really hurt doing so!

"I'm not the first Minister to deal with protests, Light," Percy said. "Nor am I the first to deal with them from pureblooded witches and wizards. In time, this too will pass, but I'm glad that _someone_ is worried about me."

He gave Harry a look so colored with melancholy humor and a bit of affection that Harry felt awed at the fact that someone so near his age was worlds wiser than him.

"Besides, Rufus said so far I've been luckier than Minister Leach during the pure-blood riots in the 60's. He got hexed twelve times on the first day of riots. So far all I've had is a pie hit me in the face." Percy gave a grin, "It was a rather tasty pie, so I'm not sure if they were rewarding me or angry."

Harry laughed before he shook his head. "I just don't..."

The fireplace flared green and both Harry and Percy took out their wands until they saw the one who had used it. "Ragnok?" Percy inquired.

"So it's true?" The goblin looked amused. "You are working."

Percy nodded.

"I thought that we might... do our duty... as a part of your society." The Goblin leader shouted something and the next thing Harry knew, it was as if a legion of roughly thirty Goblins had entered Percy's office, wearing what reminded Harry of Muggle riot armor. They exited the office, joining the fray going on in the corridor.

Ragnok smiled, looking quite pleased and frightening. He looked at Harry, "Don't you have people to send?" With that he was gone from the fireplace.

He was right, Harry realized. Wasn't he an ambassador? He used the fireplace before Percy could protest, shouting for reinforcements.

Dudley entered at the sound of his voice shouting but reacted quickly, sending people like Graham and other werewolves that would be able to hold their own over to the Ministry.

Percy just cradled his head, realizing he had lost control of the situation. Harry watched as the group of about twenty werewolves ran into the hallway. The goblins had begun the turning of the tide and with more help, it was obvious that...

Wait-were _house elves _fighting too? Harry could see that, to his surprise, they were! Soon, as he watched, the still fighting protesters were eventually budged from the corridor to the lifts and stairs. Many were unconscious and Harry could see some Aurors throwing an odd key-shaped portkey on them.

"Sends them right to Azkaban," Scrimgeour said, seeing Harry staring. "Ran out of room in the holding cells here."

The office door opened and Harry noticed that, for the first time, the office seemed... clean. The paperwork was able to be neatly filed, meaning enough of it was complete to be able to store it properly.

"What are you-"

"Avada Ked-"

"_Expelliarmus!"_ Percy snapped, disarming the protester that had made it back. _"Stupefy!"_ As said protester fell back, Percy threw one of those odd portkeys on him. "I informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the riots going on. He offered some of the special forces, but unfortunately, they don't know the truth about magic."

"Right about now, I honestly don't know if that's good or bad," Madam Bones admitted, pushing up her monocle. "But it was good thinking to tell him. What did you say?"

"He's going to cover it up by stating it's a bit of gang violence or something of that sort," Percy answered. "He was surprised that I contacted him on the first day of the rioting, apparently. It makes me curious about my predecessor." He shrugged and looked back at his office.

Harry followed his gaze, to see a _ton_ of witches and wizards leaving his office.

They looked so imposing that it was hard to really express how they made him feel. They wore all black, but it wasn't scary like the Death Eaters. They also had things covering their faces, odd goggle-like lenses made of red covering their eyes, and what seemed like air filters over their noses and mouths. Harry could see that they didn't just have their wands-they seemed to have Muggle weapons as well. The symbol on their uniform, which seemed more Muggle than magical due to the odd-fitting armor and what Harry thought to be a black trenchcoat over it, seemed to be a basic symbol: the earth with various languages that stated I.C.W. around it.

He knew what that stood for: The International Confederation of Wizards, the national organization that had standards that Percy was trying to enforce now with places like Azkaban and the like. But he didn't expect them to have enforcement that looked so completely and utterly imposing. They seemed, to Harry, more frightening than Aurors!

"Regulators?" Scrimgeour said, and Harry could see the utter astonishment on his face as he stared at the newcomers that were moving onto the stairs to join the mass of beings.

Harry could hear the shouts of the people rioting and rebelling, the shouts of "REGULATORS!"

"What the hell? ICW?"

"RUN!"

"I also informed the ICW of our current predicament," Percy said, sounding far calmer than Harry would've thought under the circumstances. "As you can see, they responded quite swiftly. From what I understood, they also sent people to other major magical areas in our jurisdiction knowing that we would have our hands full here."

"Thank goodness," Madam Bones said, shaking her head. "We were so busy that we didn't think of how the international community would react to this madness. You were wise to call them."

Percy just blushed and said nothing.

"We're going to need to hire a lot more people after this," Scrimgeour muttered, sighing. "Ridiculous. This is unacceptable and unjustifiable, reacting this way."

Percy sighed, "However unacceptable and unjustifiable it might be, it has happened so we better accept it." He didn't look happy as he said it, but continued, "Let's go throughout the building and see who else may need assistance. I have a feeling St. Mungo's and Azkaban will both be quite full after today..."

Harry didn't know what it was about his tone, but he turned. Percy looked a bit pale and very sad. "Perce?" He asked.

"I'm just wondering how I'm ever going to explain all of this. I put in the motions for the changes, for everything." Percy sighed, looking so old that Harry worried about him. "All of these years I worked hard to make a career for myself, to do good and help my family, always with the hope that I'd be successful and help others. That was why I took a career in the Ministry to begin with. I was going to do something with my life and hopefully help others."

Nobody really knew what to say to that, because they could hear the sounds of the fighting and shouting and everything above them.

"How many people's lives are gone or ruined now?" Percy shut his eyes, pained. He put his forehead into his hands, "How many others are suffering or ruined... all at my command?"

Everyone exchanged looks of concern.

Scrimgeour spoke first, "Minister, this isn't your fault. You can blame yourself later. Right now, we have a Ministry to defend."

Percy removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his hands before replacing them and nodding, "Yes, you're right. Let's get to the Atrium... that's probably where most of this is happening..." He led the way, using the stairs. Harry could see and hear the fighting on the other floors. It hurt him to know that people were reacting so strongly to the proposals. He hadn't expected the protests to be like this-he had expected a lot of holding up the court system or maybe more peaceful protesting, but nothing like what was happening.

They reached the Atrium and Harry could see the Regulators, the Aurors on their side, the Goblins and werewolves and house elves all practically forming a unit and fighting against the others.

One Regulator raised a wand and the others immediately pulled everyone that wasn't a Regulator down or covered their eyes.

Harry couldn't hear the spell used, but he could see the effect. How could he ever forget the creature he had fought in the Chamber of Secrets?

A basilisk.

"_Petrify,_" the Regulator called in Parseltongue, making Harry gape. Another Parselmouth? But only Voldemort and himself...

Wait... _international._ They couldn't be the only Parselmouths in the _world_. Besides, he recalled reading in _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_ references to Parselmouths in Africa or something like that.

"_No killing with the gaze, just petrify. Only the opposers."_

The basilisk merely bowed its head before turning and looking all around, slinking easily. Scream that began were cut off quickly and others began running, but others were casting what Harry knew to be anti-Apparating wards. They wouldn't be escaping easily.

Things quieted down much quicker thanks to the basilisk. The Regulator that had cast the spell made the basilisk vanish and another Regulator walked towards Percy. A thread of gold, a small one, was under the red of their lenses. "Minister," the Regulator saluted and spoke in an oddly disembodied voice that Harry was positive couldn't be the real one. They really did make sure nobody could tell who they were, didn't they? The voice wasn't loud, but Harry was next to Percy and could hear every word. "Your Ministry is secured. Reports state that Godric's Hollow and Hogsmeade are also secure and so is most of Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, Ottery St. Catchpole has reports of quite a bit of burning. A home there was burnt to ashes. So was a magical complex of flats here in London. Knockturn Alley is also not secure."

Percy had paled at the mention of Ottery St. Catchpole and he looked around the area.

"PERCY!" a voice that Harry recognized at Mr. Weasley shouted, running from the ranks of the people fighting the rioters and tackling him. "Oh thank Merlin, you're all right..."

"Dad..." Percy was shaking now, "The Burrow... the town, it's burning..."

Mr. Weasley looked concerned and said, "Nobody is there, don't worry."

Percy didn't look as if that comforted him very much. Harry put a hand on his shoulder, "It'll be all right. Maybe you should make a statement about this?"

A light seemed to go off in Percy's eyes, "That's brilliant, Light."

The Regulator that had spoken, the one with the tiny bit of gold, "Minister Weasley, sir, there are reports of the Dark Mark."

Everyone stared in stunned disbelief.

"_What?"_ Percy demanded. "Where?"

"Over Ottery St. Catchpole and Knockturn Alley!"

"Dispatch people there _now!_" Percy snapped, thinking. "Light!"

"Y-Yes Percy?" Harry asked.

"Come on. We're going to Hogsmeade." Percy turned, "Dad, I'm sorry about everything but I can't take the time right now. Know that I love you and I intend to make up for all of this."

_Why are we going to Hogsmeade?_ Harry didn't voice the question, just taking hold of Percy's arm.

"Percy, wait-!" Mr. Weasley began, but they were gone with the sensation Harry had grown to not really like but at least he was used to it.

The picturesque little village of thatched cottages and shops was visible from where Percy had appeared. They were at the train station that Harry recognized from taking the Hogwarts Express for the past few years. Madam Bones and Scrimgeour had appeared alongside them.

"Perce? What are we doing here?" Harry asked, glancing around. They were determined to protect Percy the best they could. He was glad of that.

"Following your suggestion," Percy said simply as he led the way.

Knowing that his questions would eventually be answered, Harry followed. All of them stopped at the sight waiting for them at the WWN, though.

A Regulator stood in front of the door. Just from what Harry could see due to the size and the like of the person, he wondered if this individual was a half-giant like Hagrid and Madam Maxime.

"Minister Weasley," the Regulator said in the disembodied voice and with a salute to Percy. "This is yours, sir. A report of the current information." A red folder was held out to Percy.

"Thank you," Percy said. Scrimgeour stepped forward and took the file, making Harry raise an eyebrow. The Auror waited a few moments before handing it over to Percy.

He saw Harry's confused look and murmured, "It could have been a portkey or something along those lines. It's a precaution."

"Oh," Harry said. He, of all people, should know about portkeys. After the mental lecture, he saw the Regulator vanish and they entered the Wizarding Wireless Network's headquarters. Percy looked over the file and sighed. "What is it?" Harry asked.

"Azkaban is full. We have people in Nurmengard, Acierenpierre and McKean now as well." Percy shut his eyes.

"... Isn't Nurmengard..." Harry knew that was where Gellert Grindelwald was, but that wasn't in the United Kingdom at all.

"None of them are here," Percy said tiredly. "They're prisons in other countries. Nurmengard is on the Batlic Sea, an island that Muggles can't see. It's near Germany and Denmark, I believe." He rubbed his eyes and continued, "Acierenpierre is in France and McKean is in the United States."

"... I didn't expect so many people to be against this," Madam Bones said, shaking her head. "That's practically a quarter of our population."

"Well, some cells aren't occupied just yet," Percy said, shaking his head. "Some people are at St. Mungo's and other hospitals." He shut his eyes and sighed, "A fair number of the people in the hospitals were petrified at the Ministry. Apparently, somehow rumors got out and people swear they're dead. Add that to the actual injuries and well..."

"And the reports of the Dark Mark." Scrimgeour looked at Percy.

"My childhood home and my flat," Percy said tonelessly. "Burnt to ash." He gave a shrug but Harry could see that he was still hurt by it, "At least nobody was hurt in said fires."

Harry stared at Percy. The Burrow, gone? He didn't want to believe that. It was so much like Hogwarts, so much more a home than Privet Drive had ever been, that Harry didn't want to imagine it being gone. But whoever had done this... they had been after Percy.

Where would he go? Harry didn't know and didn't have the heart to ask.

"And then there's what happened in Godric's Hollow..."

"What happened in Godric's Hollow?" Harry demanded, thinking immediately of Lex and Bathilda. If they had gotten hurt...

"No injuries but a lot of monuments were broken," Percy said quietly, sighing. "The remains of the Potter family's home are gone completely, the war memorial is destroyed and various graves were desecrated including those of the Dumbledore and Potter families."

Harry felt numb.

His family... the last few things of them...

And idiots had taken them...

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he looked at Percy. "I know he's your friend's cousin." It was said quietly. "And I know you're worried. Do you want to go there? We can drop you off..."

Harry shut his eyes.

His family was gone and the living were okay. Percy had just said there were no injuries. And Percy had lost things today too.

"I'm fine," Harry said quietly.

They walked through the building, taking to the various people on duty. Some bore the marks of having gotten rid of rioters but none were too hurt.

"Minister Weasley?"

"Yes." Percy nodded. "I was wondering if I could use your station to make a speech about the events."

"By all means, sir."

Harry noticed a few reporters from the Daily Prophet were in the room. Perhaps they were always around for breaking news or something.

Percy took a seat in front of the microphone and the host said, "To speak about the various events going on, the Minister of Magic, the revolutionary Percy Ignatius Weasley!"

Harry clapped and was surprised when the others in the room did, some cheering loudly. It didn't look as if they were pretending at all, and one of the women gave Harry a grin. She was _gorgeous _and reminded Harry very much of Fleur. The thought made him wonder about the other two that had been in the Triwizard Tournament with him and Cedric Diggory and for a moment Harry wondered how they would feel if he wrote to them... he forced his brain back to the present because the pretty woman was speaking to him.

"Minister Weasley's motions have helped many of us already," she said quietly to Harry. "He's shown the Ministry doesn't care about our backgrounds, and people leave me alone now. They used to try and... and.. force me..." she shuddered.

"... You're part-Veela," Harry said quietly. When the woman nodded, he remembered how angry Percy had gotten regarding that file and hadn't spoken about it. Harry didn't want to imagine what could've gotten the usually calm Percy so angry but judging from the reaction of this woman and the others...

It was good to see that the reforms were really appreciated by some.

The cheering eventually faded and the brightly blushing Percy quietly said, "Thank you." He shut his eyes for a second before opening them and Harry was surprised.

There was a fire in them that he hadn't expected.

"Normally people expect the Minister to give some speech full of hope or determination in a time like this," Percy said, and now the fire in his eyes, the anger, was reminding Harry of when he had almost yelled at Dumbledore. It was reminding Harry of how Percy's family members got angry and he didn't know if that was good or bad. "But I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that because the people doing the rioting are idiots."

One of the people in the studio laughed loudly and covered it.

"They're idiots because instead of protesting in a civilized manner, instead of acting like decent beings, they acted worse than _any_ of the beings we're trying to help." Percy clenched his hand into a fist and continued, "Hurting people, destroying things, trying to kill others-the death toll so far is 56 people. Why? Because of _blood_? Because of your background? You people _sicken_ me.

"But there's more to it than just that. There are people in prisons now, people in the hospitals, all of these things that you, the ones protesting equality, have done. You don't want the Wizengamot to have more elected seats so that the people have more of a voice. You don't want the Wand Ban lifted despite the fact that you trust some of these beings with your relics and family history. You don't think it's fair that we're protecting beings and Squibs in the same manner as wizards. You don't want the Trace to be corrected. But yet, instead of giving logical reasons why, you only destroy. Do you want to know who that reminds me of?"

No. Harry looked at Scrimgeour who looked just as horrified.

"That's right. _Voldemort._"

Gasps of horror in the room and whispering.

"You claim you want to help people and all you do is hurt. You have the capacity for so much more but you turned into pathetic creatures that do nothing but destroy society and those that actually are contributing, functioning members of it.

"I am the Minister of _Magic._ Magical beings are who we are supposed to serve, _all_ magical beings, not a select few that have money or vote. We serve the _people_. And if you want to have your own private militia, if you have your own agenda and want everything your way and refuse to compromise, refuse to remember that we all are citizens and thus equal, then you are an enemy of this Ministry."

Harry felt a bit squeamish at that. Could they be considered their own militia for having the Hold and the like? Could Dumbledore's Order?

Or was that why Percy even said it, to show that it didn't matter if it was the Order or Death Eaters?

It was complicated.

"To those of you that have shown your willingness to be logical, to fight for those around you and try to keep things calm, I thank you. You are the ones that remind us whom we serve and why. And all I can do is beg you to be patient. We are trying to comply with the international community and continue to serve you. We have failed in the past and the present is grim, but with your support, with your patience, we will work hard and we will overcome all obstacles, be they things such as complying with international guidelines, ensuring that younger people are educated well, dealing with riots, or being forced to worry about terrorists like Voldemort.

"We will fight for you, always. It is our duty and privilege to do so. All we can do is ask you to allow us to become a government that makes you proud of that fact.

"Thank you." Percy turned the microphone back to the host.

"Y-Y-Y-You j-just said You-Know-Who's name! _Twice!_"

"I will not allow our country to be ruled by fear of a mad man. And the best way to do that is by example. Voldemort may be stronger than me, but I notice he cowers behind masks and false names. His real name was Tom Riddle." Percy narrowed his eyes and Harry was reminded of Dumbledore with the sheer power radiating from him, "_He hurt my little sister._ And I don't care what he calls himself, Tom Riddle, Voldemort, Dark Lord, Man-Without-A-Nose-"

Harry started laughing, unable to help himself, and Percy gave him a smile, continuing, "I don't care. He is a criminal. He is wrong. And we will bring him and any others like him to justice."

"Do you believe that he's back, Minister? Your predecessor's stance on this issue was quite clear. Do you disagree?"

Percy gave a slight shake of his head and a little shrug, "I'd love to be definite, but he's too much of a coward to show his face if he is back. However, I will say it is those that believe he had the right mindset that are protesting, even if they did not join him. And though I will not say that one's views are wrong, I will say that sometimes it is wiser to realize that we're not always right. That sometimes other people are, and the only way we will grow is by listening to them. And if we're too stupid to listen, to hope that the people who told us the right thing are willing to forgive that fact."

Harry knew what Percy meant: he was talking about himself. How he had turned his back on his family and now... all of this was happening.

"Minister Weasley, I want you to know that we support your changes and suggestions," the host said, causing cheers to erupt and more clapping. "And though we may be frightened... and though we may perhaps even die for it... we are glad you are here, glad you are fighting, and honored that you are leading the way in all things."

"The honor is mine for being able to say that people like you are the ones that are in this country," Percy said, and Harry could hear the honesty in the words, could see it as Percy looked all around the room. "That's worth working twenty-five hours a day."

"... Twenty-five?" The host asked, staring at Percy. "But there are only twenty-four..."

Other people in the studio began to giggle and Percy just grinned, "Magic can do amazing things."

The host just chuckled, "Well, it's a good thing it's you. Most Ministers wouldn't want the burden."

"Well, let me get back to said job," Percy said. "Thank you for having me and thank you to everyone who has listened." With that he left, the others with him.

Scrimgeour waited until they were outside before he snapped, "Are you _begging _for a death sentence? You said HIS name multiple times and insulted him!"

"I just told the truth," Percy said. "And he insults people that fight him, I'm sure. It's only fair." He hesitated and said quietly, "Besides, like I said, I have to show the way, don't I? Even if I'm scared of him, I can't show it. People look up to me now. So I've got to be strong, for them."

Harry just laughed, "I think it's brilliant."

"You young people..." Scrimgeour just shook his head.

"Perce, is it all right if I get back to the settlement? I think Dudley should know about what's happened to his... well..."

Percy nodded, "Yes, that's fine. We'll be in the Ministry. Take care Light."

"You too." Harry trotted to the nearest floo station and was soon at the werewolf settlement. He entered Dudley's main place, where it was just Callahan and Dudley.

"Hey-" Harry began but gasped and collapsed due to the vision that had been completely hurled at him.

"_I am sick of this! How did he even think of these reforms?_" Voldemort was practically foaming at the mouth as he screamed this at a small group of people around him, covered by shadows around them.

Harry recognized Snape's voice as the one that answered, "The Minister's father stated that these were ideas of his that he has had for years. According to him, the Minister had a notebook with him that he used to write ideas and methods of implementing them in and his siblings would tease him for it."

Fury, raw undiluted fury was obvious on Voldemort's face. "_HOW LONG?"_

"According to his mother, since before he started Hogwarts," Snape answered. "Since he was just a boy."

"He still _IS _just a boy! _CRUCIO!_"

Snape shuddered, trying hard to not scream but giving in after a bit. Harry remembered before, after the meeting and felt a surge of pity for his teacher.

"YAXLEY!"

"Yes my Lord?" Someone, presumably this Yaxley, asked.

"I want him under Imperius _now!_" Voldemort slammed the table, "If not him, someone close to him! He is not to make another movement unless I know about it! I want no more unexpected surprises like the ICW!"

"With all due respect my Lord, with the ICW involved I think Minister Weasley won't know what his next move is going to be until after a mandatory session of the Wizengamot which the ICW will no doubt request. Placing an Imperius upon anyone while the ICW is still here will no doubt backfire on us and I have a feeling they are going to be here for a while."

"I want _results, _not-"

An owl flew into the meeting, holding a Daily Prophet.

"Lucius, _why_ is there an owl at our meeting?" Voldemort hissed in a dangerous voice.

"I have a subscription, my Lord. There must be a special edition of the Prophet to..." Lucius Malfoy's voice trailed off and Harry knew why.

Percy was on the front page, the photograph showing him in the studio of the WWN. Harry was surprised to see himself in the photo, laughing. The caption under the photo stated _when_ that had taken place and _what_ Percy had been saying.

It was when Percy had insulted Voldemort.

Said Dark Lord was grabbing the newspaper and reading it now. His eyes grew narrower and narrower until they were mere slits. "Coward, he said?" His voice was so soft that Harry would have thought him fine except for the fact that the newspaper had just turned to ash in his hands. "We shall see how brave he is, then." Voldemort stood.

"Sire?"

"I have an appointment at the Ministry."

"But my Lord, it is not-"

"_CRUCIO_!"

Harry woke up due to someone shaking him and the pain of the spell. "We have to get to Percy," he gasped, seeing Dudley and Callahan kneeling over him worriedly. "Voldemort's going after him, going after him right now."

They didn't seem to second guess him, Callahan nodding and leaving, Dudley getting all of the people that could fight together and getting them to the Ministry. He waited for Harry, who got up and joined him.

Voldemort was in the Atrium, and Harry was surprised that Sirius and the others were there already. So Callahan must have gotten someone in the Order.

If the protests earlier had been crazy, this was pandemonium. It seemed everything Voldemort touched exploded or burned.

"Oh _Minister!"_ He called, laughing completely and utterly insanely. "Who is the coward _now!_"

Harry was relieved to not see Percy. He must not have come back just yet.

"Hiding then? Oh! One of his little entourage? And Greyback's murderer!" Voldemort's eyes were on Harry and Dudley, right next to him. "Then meet their fates! _Avada Kedavra!"_

The green light flashed and Harry knew it was over.

Well, until the floor rose in front of Dudley and him. "What..." Dudley asked, confused before he turned. Harry did the same, expecting Dumbledore or maybe even Percy, but he wasn't expecting Callahan.

"How did he..." Harry looked around. He had seen Callahan fighting, he knew he had. How had he gotten behind them?

The man walked in front of the two boys, pushing them behind him.

"Cal-"

"Go find Percy, both of you," Callahan said simply. "You and him." He indicated Sirius, who was near them.

Voldemort looked at Callahan for a brief moment before he began to laugh. _"You!_ I remember you."

"I'd say I'm honored, but that'd be a lie." Callahan glanced back, "You three, go on, get out of here."

"But-" Harry didn't want to go, didn't want to leave him.

"We can't," Sirius said. "The custody-"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Callahan used the wall this time. "Will you stop arguing and go?"

"And who the hell will take care of Harry?" Dudley snapped, angry. "Who will be there for us if you're not here? Stop being so noble-!"

"The wolf gives good advice, _Thomas._ I suggest you-"

What Voldemort was going to suggest was cut short since swords began flying at him from all directions and a song that made Harry full of energy had begun. He could see that Grace and Blades were trying to hold back Voldemort, distract him.

"Fighting him won't bring them back," Sirius snapped, grabbing Callahan's arm. "You've got people that are alive and depending on you. So stop it and come _on._"

"... Fine. Come on, let's find the Minister."

Harry led the way, wondering who exactly were the _they_ that Sirius was talking about. "C'mon!" He shouted to Blades and Grace, who nodded and followed them to the Minister's office.

"What is going on up there?" Scrimgeour asked, seeing them.

"Voldemort," Harry panted. "He took it personal, he's after Percy."

Scrimgeour looked at the closed door and cursed, taking out his wand. "He's in a meeting, with the ICW. They're planning the trials and the like, and I think an emergency session of the Wizengamot for the laws and the like. But since some members of the Wizengamot are now in custody or in the hospital..." His voice trailed off and everyone knew why.

It had just gotten very dark... and very cold.

No. They couldn't be here... it was just like that night in Little Whinging, the night that had marked his leaving...

_Dementors._

Far more of them than Harry had ever seen, even more than there had been at Hogwarts.

And spells were being fired, but he couldn't see and... and...

A scream... a woman's scream...

No, be happy, try to be...

_Lily, take Harry..._

He could hear crying and begging and... and...

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

A lion, huge and vicious, ran through the dementors, _roaring._

Harry had never heard a patronus _roar._

He sat up, noticing people were on the floor. Some hit with spells and bleeding and others from the dementors but nobody seemed kissed or hurt.

Thank goodness.

But who had saved them? Harry turned and saw Percy standing there.

"Perce...?" Harry asked.

The Minister of Magic glanced at him before looking back at Voldemort. Harry could see that Death Eaters were with him. They must have been firing the spells.

But that meant... everyone else had been caught by surprise with the dementors and spell mix. Did that mean _Percy_ had cast that powerful Patronus?

"Here I am, _Minister_," Voldemort said with a mocking smile.

Harry forced himself up, standing in front of Percy, his wand pointing at Voldemort. He noticed Percy and the others with wands were doing the same. He glanced behind them. So Voldemort had gotten whatever Death Eaters he had available, it seemed. How many followers had this Dark Lord _had?_

"You are pathetic," Sirius spat out. "Won't even fight on your own."

"Oh Potter, don't speak to me of pathetic," Voldemort scoffed. "You hide behind people, so many people. And you call _me_ pathetic? At least I don't force others to die for me. Which of us would that make the coward, Minister?"

"You," a disembodied voice answered. Harry could see them now, through the gaps.

Regulators.

Voldemort didn't look too pleased.

"Potter doesn't kill babies or hurt children, doesn't hide behind people. He fights for them and they fight with him. Brothers in arms, but you don't understand that."

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Voldemort snapped before vanishing, his wand pointing at Percy.

Everything seemed slow, the sickly green light, the yelps of horror...

The exploding guts on Harry's face and all over the place...

Wait... exploding guts?

The Killing Curse didn't make people explode.

He wiped his face, and smelled... watermelon?

Percy flushed a deep red as they realized he had conjured one. "I was hungry..." He muttered quietly, still blushing. "I meant to make a shield but somehow 'watermelon' came up..."

"I think your hunger saved your life," Scrimgeour muttered, getting up. "Where's my cane..."

"Here, Rufus," Madam Bones said, shaking her head. "Minister, will you listen _now_ and get something to eat?"

Percy looked around. "Actually, I don't think so. You mentioned something about a custody hearing right? Everyone's here..."

Madam Bones looked around and blinked. "Mr. Potter? When did..." She shook her head, "Never mind. There isn't much around here that's confusing anymore. Minister, if we may use your office?"

"Of course, if you don't mind my working while you're there. I have to file the reports regarding what just happened and you can use the fireplace to call Headmaster Dumbledore."

Everyone seemed stunned at that and all asked, "What? Why?"

"He's the executor of the Potter Estate and thus has an input, though Harry is old enough to decide for himself." Percy looked around and shook his head, "Am I the _only_ one that's read the law section in the Hogwarts Library?"

"At this rate, I'm tempted to say you and precious few others _remember_ what you read in that section."

"Dumbledore's the executor of the Potter Estate?" Sirius asked, looking stunned. "Since when?"

"Since your godfather was imprisoned," Percy answered. "His duties will pass to your guardian."

"Why wasn't it... why wasn't it my aunt?" Sirius asked, managing to keep in character.

Madam Bones smiled, "Only a magical citizen can have that right unless the person in question is a Muggleborn and even then in certain cases it is a magical citizen still."

Great... Harry knew he had a bunch of glaring to look forward to. Well, best to get it over with. He followed them into Percy's office, sitting next to Percy and helping with the work, watching Madam Bones, Sirius, Dudley and Callahan from the corner of his eye. He saw the fireplace's flames turn green and Dumbledore soon entered the office.

And as predicted, he glared at Harry.

Great. He pretended to read and waited for the proceedings to begin.


	13. Chapter 13

"_You must trust and believe in people or life becomes impossible."_  
-Anton Chekhov

* * *

**13.**

It was a bit awkward in the office.

"Are you positive you'd like to go through with this today?" Dudley asked quietly, looking around. "With everything that's happened so far..."

Madam Bones seemed to be thinking along the same lines, but Harry felt Percy shift next to him. A subtle glance told him that Percy obviously did _not_agree, but he didn't want to voice dissent since he felt it wasn't his place.

Well, he was the real Harry Potter and he wanted this done today.

"It would be smart if it was today," Harry drawled, making everyone look at him. He had decided that showing he was distant from 'Harry Potter' would be wise. What better way to show disdain than to act like Draco Malfoy? "Like you said, with everything going on, that means we'll be distracted. Voldemort is out there wrecking havoc, there's changes to be made here in the Ministry, and quite truthfully, we don't need to worry about some famous wizard going missing again. Perce's got enough to deal with without having to worry about a kid his family practically adopted."

Dudley barely managed to bite back a smile and Sirius had to actually cover his mouth with his hand. Harry could see that he was trying hard not to laugh. He could see Percy shaking his head, amused, as he went through a report. Madam Bones seemed thoughtful, Callahan just looked like he needed a nap, and Dumbledore...

"I disagree. Making sure the process is done correctly and an appropriate guardian is selected is much more important than rushing things along." The Headmaster leveled a look at Harry.

Said boy was busy blinking-Callahan had just moved to restrain Dudley. Why...

"I've got an appropriate guardian," Dudley snarled, his eyes looking like glaciers at the perceived insult and trying to rise only to realize Callahan's arm was wrapped around him.

_Pack. _Harry knew that werewolves took their pack, their family, very seriously. Hadn't Dudley risked death and more for him? Hadn't he worked alongside him and kept secrets, just for that fact? And for their friends?

"Appropriate for you, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said, turning his gaze from Harry to Dudley. "However, your cousin has different circumstances than you."

Harry bit back a laugh at the incredulous look that Dudley was giving Dumbledore. Before he could say anything, however, Percy said quietly, "Headmaster, you are the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. You know exactly how many seats are elected and are inherited. You were also Supreme Mugwump until my predecessor removed you. So you should know better than anyone how grumpy some of the people in the ICW can get if a government is too slow in getting members of their legislative bodies to attend these mandatory sessions during a time of crisis."

Dumbledore gave Harry a blank look before focusing his attention on Percy, "I do, Minister. It is one reason that I, much like Mr. Dursley, am surprised we are having this custody meeting today."

"Oh, that." Percy smiled, looking amused and tired. "Well, the ICW has requested a mandatory session of the Wizengamot. You know this already, being a member. Well, I admit, it took a while to find the right files, but I have. I was looking through who to inform when I saw that a few seats hadn't been used in decades." He indicated the papers that he was looking through, "The Potter family has a seat on the Wizengamot, Headmaster, but Harry is too young to attend the session and he needs a legal guardian appointed who can attend for him or appoint someone to do so."

Everyone, including Dumbledore, seemed a bit surprised that the Potters held a seat.

Percy glanced around and continued, "There are a few families that have a seat that do not attend. This will be, hopefully, rectified. However, I'm sure you can see now why it is important that Harry has a legal guardian. I apologize for the interruption, Madam Bones."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Minister Weasley," Madam Bones said, giving Percy an affectionate look. "It explains your logic for having wishing to move swiftly with this, and it shows that you have a sound reason for doing so."

Percy gave a smile and Harry turned to look at the report on the desk when Sirius said, "So who exactly is qualified to be my guardian? Hermione had me look up a little bit. My... my godfather can't have custody..."

Percy looked at Sirius for a moment before he returned to his work. Well, attempted to, anyway; Harry could see that he was clenching his quill tightly, and though he was looking at the papers, Percy's eyes showed that his thoughts were very far away.

Harry made a note to question him about this later. He tuned back to the meeting. Madam Bones was sighing and explaining how the guardian-choosing process worked. Finally, she said, "Alchemist Callahan has custody of your cousin. Due to the various methods of protection available, and for easing of minds, he has offered to take you, if you are willing."

Sirius looked surprised and grateful, "I... I don't know what to say."

"Are you positive you wish to do that, Alchemist Callahan?" Dumbledore inquired calmly, looking worried. "Having Harry as a charge might put both yourself and the young Mr. Dursley in harm's way, more so than you already are. And some of your associates, well..."

Callahan's face had no expression and that worried Harry. Softly, he said, his voice deadened, "What associates, Headmaster? They're all dead except for one. You know who that one is, seeing as he works for you and you've vouched for him repeatedly." The deadened voice went away as Dudley clutched his hand and the man smiled, "All I have are two old friends and my boy... well, boys, if you will allow me, and their happiness."

"I want both boys and yourself to be happy," Dumbledore said, looking at them affectionately, in the way that Harry was used to Dumbledore looking. "At the same time, I want all of you to be safe."

"In this day and age, Headmaster, there is no guarantee of that," Madam Bones said, looking sad. "No matter who is chosen."

Dumbledore nodded, looking sad as well, before saying, "I am well aware that in this day and age no one is safe, but at the same time that is no excuse to rush this... even if the ICW may be unpleasant." He gave Percy a hint of a smile.

Harry wanted this out of the way. It would make their lives much easier... not to mention gathering all of the people in the Hold to inform Percy of everything. The idea of his friends and himself being charged of being a militia... it made Harry's stomach churn a little bit. "So you're willing to risk the wrath of the international community when we're finally doing things right? Not to mention the crap already going on? Jeez, maybe the papers were right before."

"Light!" Percy hissed quietly.

The quiet reprimand obviously wasn't enough, "Well," Dumbledore said, his voice sounding pleasant and calm, but Harry could see in the Headmaster's eyes that he didn't feel that way, "perhaps we should conduct the hearing elsewhere so that we don't offend you?"

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but the slamming of a hand stopped him. Percy was standing and he looked irritated. "That's enough. None of us here are little children. We are all old enough to know how to behave. Harry is the one that matters here. I know that you don't really know Alchemist Callahan, Harry, but-"

Sirius seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Percy, and Harry wasn't sure if he should be relieved or irritated that they didn't want him to tell Dumbledore a few choice things. "Honestly Percy, I think it'd be the best thing. I mean, it's not fair to Dudley for me to change everything, and those wards... everyone says they're the best protection for me, right? But it'll be okay for people to visit, won't it? And for me to still be with my friends sometimes?" This was asked with a look towards Callahan.

Callahan gave Sirius a half-smile, "Of course that would be fine."

Dumbledore didn't look pleased but he nodded.

"Then the matter is settled," Madam Bones said simply. She looked around and her gaze rested on Percy, "Though you mentioned there was a seat?"

"Yes," Percy said, looking at Callahan. "As Harry Potter's new guardian, you are now in charge of two seats on the Wizengamot."

"Oh that's-wait... two?" Callahan raised an eyebrow. Good thing. Harry didn't understand how that had happened either.

"Yes. The Potter family has long held a seat, but..." Percy looked very tired and as if he didn't want to continue, but he did. "Unfortunately... people who have served in prison are not allowed on the Wizengamot. Well, let me rephrase. Felons aren't. Mr. Black is innocent but due to the nature of his time in prison and on the run, there is a mandatory period of recovery time needed before he can take the seat. So Sirius Black is the holder of the Black Family seat, but due to his ineligibility at the moment, it passes to someone he chose. His heir thus far is Harry Potter..."

"So Harry has two seats," Callahan finished, nodding.

Percy looked hesitant, "Well..."

"Well?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry was curious also but not even he was expecting Percy to say, "Three, not two, seats."

"How?" Madam Bones inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Because he holds the Slytherin seat, being the closest relative to Voldemort."

"And Voldemort's a felon," Harry murmured, making Percy nod.

"Exactly, Light." Percy looked at him and gave a brief smile before looking around.

"Related? Yes, but surely it isn't a close enough relation," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

"I had the ICW look into that," Percy answered. "They've been very keen to help us. Well, the Muggle side of Voldemort's family has died out completely. He saw to that, from what we understand." He shut his eyes, looking pained before sighing, "Genealogists solved the issue of his magical half. The Gaunts were... inbred to the extreme, to the point of breeding with siblings. There was a history of magical repression and mental instability for decades. It really isn't surprising that he turned out the way he is. Perhaps if things had been different, if we had a better social services department..." Percy shook his head, saying nothing.

Sirius spoke, "It's not the Ministry's fault he ended up that way. I'm an orphan too and I don't kill and maim for fun."

Harry gave Sirius a smile. It was what he had been thinking.

"I suppose. Still..." Percy shrugged. "To answer your question, Headmaster, the genealogists... well, they have the finer details. However, as I was saying, genealogists solved the issue of his magical half. Tracking back his magical family a few centuries led to a common ancestor. That ancestor's line, when followed, leads to Harry."

Funny, that. Harry barely managed to not smile. In a way, he _was_the Heir of Slytherin now. At least heir to the Wizengamot seat.

Silence reigned for a few moments before Callahan said simply, "I need to find suitable people for three seats, then."

Nods were his answer.

"Then I do believe we're finished here," Madam Bones said, smiling. "Alchemist Callahan is Harry Potter's guardian. Any decisions regarding his wellbeing, along with reports and the like, will be through him."

"Including what he gets into at school," Callahan said, narrowing his eyes at Dumbledore. The action surprised and confused Harry.

"Surely you understand that young people are rash sometimes-" Dumbledore began.

Percy spoke quietly, "I whole-heartedly agree, Alchemist Callahan. Harry has a knack for attracting trouble. According to what I have been told, even if his family had been informed they probable would not have taken action. I'm relieved that Harry will have a legal guardian to help him in situations such as last year with the Tournament and the other various events that have taken place."

Harry had never thought of that before, but Percy, as usual, was right.

"Also," Madam Bones said quietly, "mortal danger and rash do not always go hand-in-hand. My niece is Harry's age and these sort of things do not happen to her. I am relieved a student that seems to have trouble follow him will have a guardian to help and more protection around the school."

Right, the Aurors. Harry smiled but the smile turned cold when Dumbledore looked at him.

They glared for a brief second before Dudley said, "Well, I'm beat. Let's get going. Light, is it cool if I run some things by you?"

Harry nodded, saying goodbye to everyone and telling Percy he'd see him tomorrow.

They had left the Ministry when Sirius said, "Harry, I understand you're frustrated but there was no need to make a scene like that."

"I didn't make a scene," Harry retorted.

"Challenging the Headmaster like that when he doesn't like you, what's that called?" Callahan said, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe he needs to be told to take that 'self-righteous but based off wrong information' stick out of his ar-"

"That's enough." Callahan's voice was soft. "I recommend you go to Godric's Hollow and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow to detail some things I want you to learn."

Harry took a deep breath and tried to look at all of this from another point of view. Yes. He was frustrated. He had been ignored for most of the summer by the Headmaster and now this dislike because he didn't know the truth...

He had expected a lot more from Dumbledore, and though Harry had seen time and time again this summer that the Headmaster was only human, it seemed he still had higher expectations of the older man. But the others were right too. Harry was making changes, helping people, living a false life. He couldn't afford any scrutiny.

"I'm sorry I acted like an idiot," he said, realizing he had done that.

"It's understandable," Callahan said simply, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You're stressed enough. It's a wonder you're not stark raving mad at this point. Just relax a bit, sleep in. All right?"

Harry nodded, but as he was going to Floo away, he noticed a strange look on Sirius's face. Curious but tired, because his exhaustion was catching up, it took all of his energy to make it to his room in Godric's Hollow.

Before he could collapse onto his bed, a light tap at his window made him look up and smile. It was Ariel, which meant that a certain former dark lord had replied.

Harry couldn't help himself; he enjoyed his correspondence with Gellert Grindelwald. Perhaps it wasn't a good thing that he did, but the man actually _answered_him. It was more than even his godfather had done all of July. And the man had a sense of humor and was brilliant, Harry knew that just from letters.

He could see how Dumbledore had liked Gellert Grindelwald, if this was how he was. But pushing all of that aside, Harry picked up the letter, eager to read it. Then he would sleep, re-read it and reply.

_Light,_

_Thank you very much for the present. The various sweets were perhaps the best thing I have eaten in years. Though I do still have a lingering stomachache from cramming so much at once. Are you sure those Mars Bars are a Muggle treat? I wonder if the creator was a Squib or a Wizard and didn't wish to tell anyone._

Harry chuckled. Heaven forbid Muggles did something better than wizards, even if it was making candy? Actually... those thoughts led Harry to more fun Muggle inventions, like video games and the things he had seen in movies. With magic, they wouldn't just be things on a screen...

Saving the thoughts for later, Harry returned his gaze to the letter.

_Your question about intentions, which are key for magic... it does concern me. For goodness sakes, what __do_ _they teach you children nowadays in schools? When you perform a spell, though you have the incantation, you still have the end result in your mind. The intent matters just as much, if not more, than the spell. In actuality, the Unforgivable Curses were never designed to be used the way that many people feel. The Killing Curse was used so that farmers had a more humane way of slaughtering animals needed for food. The Cruciactus was developed by a witch whose feet constantly went to sleep, it was a way for her to wake up her nerves. The Imperius, since it was before the stature of secrecy, was meant to be used as an older version of house arrest for wizards that lived in non-magical areas. A levitation spell cast with much force into a stone can kill someone just as easily as the Avada Kedavra if that is your intention. _

Harry stared at that bit, wondering. If that was true... well, he knew the part about the levitation spell could happen easily. He could remember the troll in his first year, after all. It had been knocked out with its own club. But if there had been more force behind that spell...

Intentions. That made sense. In fact, it seemed so obvious that Harry felt rather stupid for having even asked about it. At the same time it didn't seem as if the man was being snobbish or anything, just stating a simple fact. And he had asked about the schools, he hadn't said anything about Harry's intellect per say, which was nice.

_Horcruxes are things that hold souls. Dark magic. Interesting tidbit about them though... Herpo the Foul developed the method for creating the horcrux. He also created the first basilisk. Now, before you ask what's interesting, I will tell you. You asked for the method of destruction. Interestingly enough, that method is basilisk venom. The creator of the horcrux also managed to create one of the few ways to destroy it. Strange, isn't it?_

Yes, that was strange and rather fitting, in its own way. But more so than that... dark magic, things that hold souls. Basilisk venom, though, was the answer. And had Harry not gotten rid of a basilisk in his second year? He would have to try and figure out how to get his friends and Sirius to open the Chamber since none of them spoke Parseltongue.

_Also, to answer your other question: I did not split my soul. I felt the hallows were more than enough to ensure mastery over death. Hallows, not horcruxes. Get your h-words correct, young man._

Harry couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at that. For some reason he pictured a mock wag of the finger and just kept reading.

_Doubts... that is putting it mildly. It seems your country is so shaken up that the ICW had to get involved. Young people always are doubted because older people remember how youth felt and instead of explaining, just wave it off. Been there, done that, I understand..._

_Except they don't. Not always, because how can they? We are all our own person. Remember this, young man: Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future._

Harry stared at those words. For some reason, they struck him as memorable, as noteworthy, even though he didn't know why he thought that.

_As for my lovely home here in Nurmengard, I relied heavily on runes and nature to do the trick. There are runes that can act as magical dampeners. We would tattoo the inmates and many of them became like Squibs as a result. The guards had... absolute authority, and we ensured obedience with potions and wards. _

_And yes... if some people were stubborn... we ensured they suffered. We were not nice people, Light. I was a horrible, sick man. I enjoyed what I did, breaking someone past the point of no return, to show who exactly was wrong. How could such power be wrong, after all? These people had notions of fairness and the like, so if things were fair, how could I destroy them so easily?_

_It felt like a game, like the best drug, the best... there was no words for the feeling. It was better than any spell, any potion, and completely superficial._

_Of course, I did not learn that until later, because I was so book-smart, so intelligent, that I couldn't see common sense. Pain is a type of power, I will not lie. But there are more powerful things than that._

_There are some things worth going mad or staying in a prison for. Some things that even pain and magic removal cannot force you to do or say. _

Harry stared at it. It made sense, why Gellert told him this.

He wanted Harry to understand how a dark lord thought.

But the man seemed to be talking from first-hand experience. What could have made Gellert think that, made him change his mind?

_I don't like talking about it, I won't lie, but at the same time... I don't want to be known for what I did. I don't want to only have that as the only thing I leave behind. And even if you are the only one who knows the truth, the only one willing to let an old man ramble, then that is more than enough for me. I am grateful, young Light, for your letters and for your birthday __gift._

_Thank you._

Harry shut his eyes. It had helped a little bit, the reply. How to destroy horcruxes, and more importantly, why Voldemort might endorse the use of the Unforgiveables so easily. The rush, the sheer power...

It had felt like a game, Gellert had said. The thought made Harry sick, but he was pretty sure that Gellert was being honest. It wasn't a truth Harry liked.

Trying to get the dark thoughts out of his head, Harry collapsed onto his bed, but he didn't sleep.

Instead, he had the lovely sensation of turning to see a furious Voldemort using blasting hexes on everything in a room, reminding Harry of when... well, reminding him of the changeling's tantrums.

"A BLOODY WATERMELON!"

Harry couldn't help but grin at remembering that. Watermelon: 1, Voldemort: 0... and it seemed the man-turned-thing was taking it personal.

"REGULATORS! A BASILISK! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS! A WATERMELON!"

Bam. Bam. More explosions.

"A WATERMELON! THWARTED BY A **WATERMELON!**"

Harry could see the hallway now. Voldemort's fury had destroyed a wall.

"MORE THAN HALF OF YOU IDIOTS ARRESTED OR INJURED AND ONLY YOU COWARDS REMAIN!"

Harry turned, seeing a group of Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy looked as if he was fighting very hard to not react, clutching his wand tightly as he looked mournfully at the destroyed room.

Well, it served the man right, serving an insane dark lord and using his manor as headquarters.

"PERCY WEASLEY WILL DIE BY MY HAND!" Voldemort was just mentally gone, Harry was sure. He could see the Death Eaters sharing looks.

Percy wasn't going to die, not if Harry had a say.

"He might not be a problem for much longer, sir," someone said quietly from the back. "The ICW has called for an early election, since his reforms cannot be voted for by the traditional means."

A smile, cruel and cold, found its way to Voldemort's face. "An _election?_" He began to laugh. "Then our work is done for us."

Harry felt a sick sensation in his stomach. Voldemort had calmed down? Why?

"Those fools. As if anyone besides our people actually vote. We will strike down his so-called reforms and I will have the pleasure of torturing him until he begs for death..." He began to laugh, a cold laugh so full of insanity that it sent chills down Harry's spine, "Him and his little bloody pets!"

Another explosion at that, and Harry swallowed hard. Pets?

"Scrimgeour," Voldemort laughed, and Harry could see him destroying something else. "Bones." Another explosion. "Porter."

_Light Porter_... so Voldemort had gotten some information about him then. Well, 'him.'

"Percy Weasley will see his family destroyed, then his pets taken one by one in front of him... and that is only the beginning." That cold, insane laugh once more, "There are still enough of us in positions in the Ministry, are there not?"

"Yes my Lord," a few voices answered.

"Rig the election. Make the ballots read what they must. And then... the rest shall be easy." Another laugh before Voldemort said, "And when the Ministry falls, I shall turn my attention to that annoying old fool and his brat, Potter..."

The next thing Harry knew, he was in his bed, Gellert's letter still in his hand, his forehead where he knew his scar was aching, and Bathilda shaking him. "Gellert? Gellert?"

"I'm fine," Harry gasped, sitting up. "What..."

"You looked like you were hurt." Bathilda rubbed Harry's back. "Too much birthday cake?"

Harry chuckled, "That wasn't today."

"Sometimes it takes a while to kick in!" Bathilda seemed rather sure of her deduction for Harry's looking as if he were hurt and the teen just chuckled.

"Sure," he said, raking back his hair. "Way too much cake. Messed up my mind."

"Oh Gellert," she said, rubbing his back once more as she sat next to him. "You've been running all over the country. Perhaps you should take a break?"

Harry shook his head, "I can't. People need me."

Bathilda nodded, looking at him warmly. "You're such a good lad. Those rumors were just so wrong and dreadful." She patted Harry's hand, "I'll always be here for you, Gellert."

Harry gave her hand a squeeze. Gellert had given him permission to pretend, right? He could help Bathilda feel a little better, he hoped, by being here. "And you have no idea how glad I am for that, Bathilda." Harry said it quietly.

"I'll get you a potion," she said, beaming at Harry. "Such a brave good boy..." She left the room, Harry chuckling before putting the letter he was still holding on his desk.

She returned holding a potion. "Say, Bathilda?"

"Hm?" She gave him a smile.

"Why did you live here, when everyone else didn't?"

"... I wanted to see the world," Bathilda said quietly, looking out the window. "So I stole father's broomstick and I ran away. I wanted to see everything and study it, learn about people and history. They wanted me to just stay home and be a good wife and attend boring social events and gossip." She made a face. "I used to wonder, so often, what was it like in their funny little brains, when all they cared about was blood and gossip? It must be so _boring_."

Things were a little more clear to Harry. "So you left and ended up here. That's why you... why you took me, isn't it? Because I didn't really care about that, I wanted to study and change the world."

Bathilda ruffled Harry's hair, looking both young and old at the same time, reminding Harry a bit of how Dumbledore managed to do it. Well, when he wasn't glaring or anything. "Two peas in a pod."

"... I think Voldemort is going to come after us," Harry said, looking out the window as well. "To hurt Percy and because we're a threat."

"Oh Gellert, you're more than a match for that boy," Bathilda said, beaming. "But I'll be careful. We can touch up the wards, just make sure you get some pumpkin juice tomorrow."

Harry just nodded and smiled, since he could vividly recall the first time he had met Bathilda... a few short days ago. She really did like her pumpkin juice.

How different his life was! Was this how his life could have always been, if he hadn't been stuck with the Dursleys? Things did just seem to happen to Harry after all, even if he was in a disguise. But he didn't mind. He enjoyed his life, even if Light Porter was becoming just as well-known as Harry Potter.

And it seemed Voldemort would always hate him, no matter what his name was.

"I'll get the juice, Bathilda, don't worry," Harry said, giving her a smile. "I think I'm okay now. Let me try to sleep."

"Good night, Gellert."

"Good night Bathilda." Harry heard the older woman leave and he debated about removing his contacts and headband before deeming it too risky. He would do it in the morning and stay upstairs for a bit before putting his contacts on.

Harry sighed, looking at the ceiling and thinking. Percy had said no private militias. Voldemort wanted all of them. With everything that was going on right now, his friends and allies and everyone couldn't afford to have sense of distrust.

He knew what he had to do, what he had to ask the others to do.

Harry knew they had to tell Percy the truth, the whole of it, including his disguise.

Fine... but how could they do that with the others all at Hogwarts? Things were moving so rapidly that Harry knew waiting until the first Hogsmeade trip was a bad idea. It had to be soon.

_Tomorrow._ Harry thought it firmly. He would get input tomorrow and move from there.

That firmly decided, somehow his mind finally obeyed him and allowed him to get some much needed sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

"_It is not nearly so important how well a message is received as how well it is sent. You cannot take responsibility for how well another accepts your truth; you can only ensure how well it is communicated. And by how well, I don't mean merely how clearly; I mean how lovingly, how compassionately, how sensitively, how courageously, and how completely."_

~Neale Donald Walsch

* * *

**14.**

The next morning seemed to arrive rather quickly, leaving Harry nervous as he cooked breakfast for himself and Bathilda.

"Gellert? Is everything okay?" Bathilda asked, looking at him with concern.

Harry served them and stared at his plate of food and into his tea for a moment before saying, "I'm just... worried."

He looked up and could see the concern on the older woman's face. The gentle lighting of the odd gemstone illuminated things so much more easily. Harry wondered if it was standard for most magical homes, but he couldn't remember the Weasleys having one. He would have to ask Ron.

And now he was trying to distract himself. Great, just great. That vision wasn't going to leave him alone.

"Worried about what?" Bathilda's voice was gentle, her wrinkled hand gently laying on his own. "You can talk to me, Gellert."

Harry wondered if this was what it was like to have a grandmother or aunt that was willing to listen. He gave a weak smile before he sighed and asked, "I think I'm just being silly. You can't rig a magical election, can you?"

She looked thoughtful and mused for a bit while Harry poked at his eggs. "I know after the election of 1819, many beings stopped voting."

"Why 1819?" Harry asked, blinking.

"Minister Grogan Stump made great advances for beings of all kinds," she explained. "He was the Minister that ended the debate on what was a being and what was not. He also created the Spirit Division."

Harry just looked at her as she continued.

"Things were supposed to be very, very good under Minister Stump. He was very well liked, very popular, but the more traditional witches and wizards were scared of him. He was an interesting man, very concerned with beings and others. But irrational fears of him, spread by the more traditional people, caused Minister Diggory to win the election."

Harry's mind jumped to Cedric and the graveyard as soon as he heard the name. He still felt guilty about the older teen's death. He knew, rationally, that it was not his fault, but still... he felt guilty for it.

_But his last wish was honored, his body was brought back..._ Harry forced himself to stop thinking about it, but it was hard.

Luckily, he could focus on Bathilda talking.

"After Minister Diggory, who was elected to three terms because he was gifted and many people respected him, Minister McPhail was elected. Things were extremely peaceful under him, but people started rumors that he was too dull to be Minister. Insane, but that's how our people are." Bathilda grinned, "Needless to say, things were anything but dull under Minister McLaird."

Harry tilted his head, curious. "How so?"

"Well, he was quite the brilliant wizard, but preferred to communicate by puffing smoke out of the end of his wand," Bathilda said, chuckling. "Many times, people didn't understand what he meant and more time was spent actually _listening._ It was quite the change, but he was so eccentric that he didn't really care for the nuances of being Minister. He left a lot of things up to the Wizengamot, not even really reading the laws or anything that were brought in. He was brilliant, yes, but usually absorbed in more interesting things." She sighed. "Things went a bit downhill due to that, people realizing they could make changes that not everyone liked but nobody would stop them. Minister McLaird didn't run for a third term, but it was too late. When Minister Spavin took over, he was determined to fix things."

Harry didn't really like the sound of that, "Fix things?"

"Well, the first and really only good thing he did was return control of Gringotts to the Goblins," Bathilda said calmly. "Everything else was spent showing what a proper wizard he was, what proper upbringing meant. He was an arrogant, annoying man and I never really liked him. I just wish that centaur hadn't missed."

"What?"

"The centaurs were protesting because he kept disrespecting them, and one day they shot arrows at him while he was visiting Hogsmeade to make a speech," she explained. "One centaur was aiming for him and just barely missed. Needless to say, many laws were passed against them after that, with Minister Spavin saying they had proven they were animals."

Harry felt irritated at the thought, "And people let him?"

"With the changes he was making and the financial backing he had from the older families, nobody could do anything against him," Bathilda answered. "And people tried, especially when he passed the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery."

"But I thought that was for protecting people," Harry said. "I know we're allowed to use it in emergencies-"

"No," Bathilda said quietly. "Think about it. How is forcing you to not use your abilities making things safe? You forget things and are unable to practice. However, everyone knew that it was just something to give children from magical families a big advantage over those from Muggle families."

Now Harry was interested. "How so?"

"There is no way to know who is casting a spell. Whenever the Ministry detects a spell from a place where an adult witch or wizard lives, they automatically assume that said adult cast it. If they detect a spell being cast in a Muggle home, they assume it is the child and give the child a warning."

Harry thought of the hover charm that Dobby had cast and how he had gotten the warning for it. He nodded.

"It basically prevents Muggleborn children from practicing magic during the holidays while non-Muggleborn children can practice when every they want." She sighed, "There were a few cases, supposedly, where some children got their Muggleborn classmates into trouble by framing them. They would cast spells in the vicinity and the Muggleborn child would get the warning."

"That's horrible!" Harry said, imagining someone doing that to himself or Hermione.

Bathilda nodded, "But people don't care. They don't think that anyone raised in the Muggle world belongs here, so they will do things to try and make them leave. Most of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of schools don't bother reading the letters that the Ministry sends them about underage magic being performed in the summer because they feel the law is foolish." She shook her head, "But that time... it was hard for people to make the Ministry listen, even harder for anyone that just happened to not be human. With all the restrictions being set up, with everything being done and the full support of the wealthy and influential..."

Harry could see the descent of the Ministry of Magic from that point on. One person had changed it. One Minister had done it, had begun the downward spiral that had led to the corruption and many things wrong with the Ministry today.

_But if one person could change it for the worse, then why can't one person fix it? Why can't Percy fix it, with the support he's got?_

Harry perked up at the thought of that. One person _could_ make a difference, for better or worse, but it wasn't just one person now, it was a group. Just like the group of wealthy and influential people changed it before, they could change it back now, make things better. Harry knew it was possible for things that people thought impossible to happen; wasn't he living proof of it?

"Gellert?"

"Yes?" Harry asked, after swallowing some tea.

"Why did you ask about rigging an election? Is someone as horrible as Spavin planning to run again? I'll help you."

Harry grinned at the thought of himself and Bathilda trying to rig an election. "No, I'm not the one doing the rigging. The ICW wants to have an early election," Harry explained. "I'm worried that with the return of Voldemort and the riots going on that people will be rigging the election to go the way they want. And you did say a lot of people don't vote, so..."

"I'm sure that people are taking precautions," she said, giving him a smile.

"Perhaps," Harry agreed, finishing his breakfast. "But I still worry. Maybe I'll tell Dudley to make sure all of his people vote."

"That would be wise," Bathilda beamed at him. "He's a nice boy too, so tall and strong. I hope his job isn't too stressful."

"It is stressful, but he likes it a bit, I think," Harry said, being quite honest. His cousin was young, but he really did seem to be enjoying himself as the Alpha of his Pack... unlike poor Percy who obviously didn't like being the Minister very much. Harry figured it had something to do with the fact that their predecessors had been different, that Dudley was happy to make changes that were needed. His changes weren't met with riots, after all.

"Take care, Gellert!"

"You too, Bathilda," Harry said, leaving the house after he cleaned up the dishes. Bathilda was talking excitedly about a book she was reading and her herb garden, so he was sure she'd be occupied for a fair bit of the day. After bothering Lex for a bit, nice and early in the morning and earning a dish towel thrown at his head by a tired bartender, Harry used the Floo Network to get to the werewolf settlement.

It was pretty quiet at the settlement, something Harry wasn't really used to. It was, quite frankly, disturbing. He walked through the area, marveling a bit at how obvious the changes were without people clamoring for his attention or needing him for things.

It was obvious Snape had really asked Sprout for her assistance and she had given it, due to the gardens. There were plants neatly fenced away and little teeny streams from the lake through it. Cabbage, pumpkin, beans... Harry smiled and looked away, towards where small cabins that reminded him a bit of Hagrid's hut were being built on the other end. Dudley had thought it'd be a good idea for families to have better shelter than tents and slowly would expand it to others. The project seemed to be going well.

But Harry didn't know where anyone really could be. Some could be at work, but others... oh, there was Callahan, waiting for him by the small lake.

"Hey," Harry said, sitting next to him. "Where is everybody?"

"Shopping," Callahan answered, giving him a chuckle. "Community like this needs supplies for everything. And school's starting in less than a week."

Harry gave a start. He had known school was starting, it was why Callahan was tutoring him. But so soon? "I was thinking we should tell Percy," he said quietly. "About... well... everything."

The man looked at him for a long few seconds, making Harry feel a bit self-conscious. "Are you sure?" His voice was quiet. "Think about it."

"I have..."

"No. Really think about it. He might put his foot down. You'll have to return to school. No more influence, nothing. We won't be able to work around it."

Harry raked his hand through his hair, "I know. But if it's all because of lies or hiding things, is it worth it? I'll help him no matter what, I agree with a lot of the things he's doing. But he keeps saying how private militias have no place here. I don't think he's just talking about Voldemort. I think he knows Dumbledore's got a group and he's making it clear he doesn't work for any of them."

Callahan nodded thoughtfully a few times, "If you think it best, I can tell the others. You'll have to ask your friends when the next time they'll be able to slip away will be. Will you be able to get him there last minute?"

"I hope so," Harry admitted quietly. He wasn't too positive about that fact. "I'll have to ask someone."

"Do you think it's really wise to inform him of all of this when he might not be Minister for long?" Callahan inquired.

Harry sighed. He didn't know. "It just feels wrong to keep hiding it from him," he said finally.

A few seconds of silence before Callahan nodded, "Your instincts have been pretty good so far. I suppose following them for a bit longer won't hurt. I'll tell the others. Maybe you should go and... well, support the Minister, like you've been doing. Heaven knows he needs it."

Harry gave a weak smile, "Yeah. Just... just be careful, all right?"

"With everything that's going on, I will be." The look on the man's face was worried and tired, "But I would say that you would be wise to heed your own words."

"I'll try my best," Harry said, nodding before leaving to the Ministry.

It looked like something out of a disaster movie, with people and beings rebuilding and fixing things. Harry walked a bit and soon found the people he was looking for. It was odd, how people seemed to not let Percy stay alone.

Then again, Harry wasn't really leaving him by himself either. He suspected he knew why the others were staying too. For both support... and protection. Voldemort had made Percy a prime target.

Ah, and there Percy was, with Madam Bones and Scrimgeour. Harry trotted over to them. Percy was joining in with cleaning and rebuilding, as were the other two. Harry was surprised to see other beings like goblins there as well, but remembered that Ragnok had sent them to help Percy fight Voldemort, so why wouldn't he send them to help rebuild?

It made sense. Percy _was _a completely different minister than many before him. But then how could Harry tell him what he wanted to say now? How could he tell Percy the truth, that Light was just an illusion? He knew as he looked around at the wreckage and all the various beings working on it. He couldn't tell the truth right now, of course; he had to get the all clear from the others. He'd have to write to Sirius or Ron or Hermione... heck, even Ginny, since she was a secret keeper. Someone there would have to be able to tell Harry when he could get them all together once more.

But perhaps he could ask Percy for a favor in the near future right now. To go with Harry, when asked, spur of the moment, without questions or prior warning. That would save him a bit of annoying questions when he _did_ get the okay.

And it'd be better to request the favor now, despite all the activity, since Harry knew that other things might distract all of them and he might forget. Still, it didn't mean he was exactly eager for it.

"Hey Light," Percy said, when he saw Harry. "Is everyone all right?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. But... I do have a favor to ask."

"Sure. What is it?" Percy raised an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head, "Not yet. It's... It'll sound strange when I say it. But in a bit, in a few days... I'll need you to come with me someplace. It will be last minute, but it's really important."

Percy looked concerned now. "Is everything... Light, are you sure everyone's all right?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, it's just basically hard to explain, but planning is rough right now. That's why it'll have to be last minute."

"Ah, I see," Percy said nodding. "That makes a bit more sense now." They glanced around at the frenzy of activity and Percy continued, "I'm glad that everyone's helping. The Muggle Prime Minister has actually ensured that people won't be around here, something about contamination. We put up wards anyway just in case, since the attack messed some of them up."

Harry winced. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I told you a lot of things haven't been updated or looked at," Percy said, looking sad once more. "It wasn't just laws or society either. Security became very lax too. A lot of the old protections..." He just rubbed his eyes, "I won't bore you with it, but let's just say that I'm going to be very busy even when all of this is over. It really makes me wonder what my predecessors did all day."

Scrimgeour glanced over, "Well, Minister Bagnold had the aftermath of the war... and Minister Orpington had the main brunt of it. It wasn't as bad as this," the Auror indicated the area around them, "but it wasn't a good time for anyone. It'll probably be just as bad now, if not worse." He looked frustrated and Harry could relate. Nobody wanted to hear that, they wanted to hear what was being done and how it was being fixed, but seemed to put all the troubles on people who had enough issues to fix without Voldemort in the equation.

But Percy was trying to change a lot of things and during the second rise of a Dark Lord. And with Dumbledore being so odd, Harry really couldn't be surprised that all of this was happening. He went to help before looking at his wand and remember what he and Bathilda spoke about that morning. "Hey, Percy?"

"Hm?"

"I was talking with Bathilda this morning, and she mentioned some things about the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery that I think you would be interested in knowing."

Percy raised an eyebrow and, as they worked, Harry told him about what Bathilda had told him, about how the Trace worked and how some Muggleborn students had even been falsely accused. To say that Percy did not look pleased was quite the understatement. Neither did Madam Bones or Scrimgeour, who were listening.

"Yet another thing to be altered," Percy said tiredly, sighing.

"Sir, the western area has been cleared," a Regulator stated, approaching them.

"Thank you," Percy said, rubbing his eyes. "We'll still have to get on with more cleaning and the elections."

The Regulator nodded and left.

"I'll draft the legislation tonight," Percy said, yawning. "And... and then I'll..."

"Minister," Scrimegour spoke sternly. "You need to rest."

Percy gave a bitter chuckle, "Rest _where_ exactly, Auror Scrimegour? I don't have anywhere to go."

Silence met the statement as they shared looks. Percy was right, after all.

"With Voldemort after me," he continued, "any place I stay will be a target immediately. Do you honestly think I would place anyone else in that danger?"

"You can stay at my place," Madam Bones said, her tone no-nonsense. "We will ensure there are protections and guards."

"No," Percy said simply. "I will not allow you to put yourself and your family in even more danger. It's obvious that I... don't know very much about things." He swiped his wand to clean up debris a bit harder than necessary. "I drove away my family with my stupidity, Madam Bones. I goaded Voldemort into this. And now..." Percy just sighed, shaking his head.

"It's not your fault," Scrimegour said calmly. Before Percy could retort, the Auror spoke, reminding Harry very much of a fierce lion, "You are _young_ and you are courageous. It is not a crime to be that. It takes that bravery to dare to challenge politics, to challenge old ideas and practices that need changing. Your family knows that young people do foolish things sometimes. _You are only human._ If you are expecting perfection from yourself, you will fail. No one is or ever has been perfect. But despite your age, you are a good person. And not many can say that. Just act to the best of your abilities, as you have been doing, and the rest will fall into place."

Harry knew the words hadn't been directed to him, but he still felt that it fit his situation perfectly. "He's right," he told Percy quietly. "But I'm worried... these elections, you think they could be rigged somehow?"

"The ICW has standards in place for these kinds of elections," Percy answered, yawning once more. Seeing Madam Bones pointing her wand he chuckled, "All right, you win. I'll get some sleep. Lead the way."

"Good." Madam Bones shook her head, "Stubborn young people... I swear..."

"I'll... say, Light?" Percy looked so tired, so exhausted...

"Yes?" Harry inquired.

"I'll leave you in charge of here for now," Percy said, trying hard not to yawn. "Is that okay? I mean... you're an ambassador... and you've got experience with fixing areas..."

Harry glanced at Scrimgeour and Madam Bones, but both just flashed him small smiles and tiny nods. "You sure you want a kid to handle it?" Harry inquired.

Percy chuckled, "I'm not much older than you, but now I feel like an old man. Thanks for the reminder."

Harry chuckled and nodded, "Sure. Just let the Regulators know."

A nod and Percy left to tell the Regulators just that while Harry helped to continue cleaning, stunned at the amount of trust that had just been placed on him. Percy was _leaving to sleep_ and had basically just told an international group that he was in charge.

It was humbling and made Harry a little worried... because how much would he be trusted once he told the truth?

Even if it wasn't at all, it was the right thing to do... even if it wasn't easy.

But right now, those worries had to be pushed to the side. Rebuilding was going on. And thankfully, despite his youth, Harry had experience with that already. Having magic to help with it was just a bonus.

This ritual would go on for a few days, until the very last day of the holidays.

"Wake up!" Two voices said, four hands shaking Harry roughly in his bed. "Wake up!"

"Huh?" Harry blearily opened an eye and fumbled for his glasses. "Forge? Gred?"

"Lovely," Fred said, beaming. "First thing in the morning and he knows our names!"

"Indeed," George said, nodding. "But we don't have time to waste. Mum's just gone to Diagon Alley to get our school stuff. You said let you know."

The words took a few seconds to sink in, but when they did, Harry sat upright immediately. "I've got to get on my stuff," he said instantly. "Go get Dudley, he'll get the others. I'll get Percy."

The twins shared looks and glanced back at Harry.

"Just use the Floo, say 'Werewolf Settlement,' lets you off right there," Harry said as he got up.

"Right," both twins said, vanishing.

Harry knew there was no time to waste and he only hoped that Percy would understand. Swallowing hard, worried but determined, he quickly got ready and headed outside. It was a simple matter to get to where the Ministry was, and people recognized him by now.

"Light?"

"Percy, remember what I said a few days ago?" Harry looked at the three adults, desperation and concern obvious in his eyes.

"What you said...?"

"About a last minute planning," Harry said this very fast. When Percy nodded, looking worried, "Well, now's that time."

"Light-" Scrimgeour began.

"Please," Harry said quietly. "It's important."

Percy nodded and stood up, following Harry with his little entourage of Scrimgeour and Madam Bones behind him. "Where are we going?" He asked simply, obviously trusting Harry.

"Hogsmeade," Harry answered.

"I'll apparate us, if you'd like."

Harry nodded and soon, after the unpleasant feeling of side-along apparation, they were at the Hogsmeade train station. They went towards the Hog's Head, Harry noticing the other three looking a bit anxious as they followed, but still doing so.

"Go on," he murmured to them, holding open the door.

Madam Bones and Scrimgeour went in first, their wands close to their hands, obviously ready for a fight of some sort. Percy entered and froze. "Ginny? Ron? Fred-what... Light, what's...?" Percy turned, looking around, confusion obvious.

Aberforth waved his wand at the door and Harry felt a ward surround them.

"What is the meaning of this?" Scrimgeour asked, his voice a dangerous growl.

Percy turned to look at Harry, the question obvious on his face.

"We... have to tell you a few things," Harry said quietly, looking around the room.

His cousin nodded to him, his friends doing the same.

"A few things?" Percy echoed. "Like... like what?" His voice wasn't the confident tone of a Minister or even the tired voice he had had lately while dealing with all of the issues that were streaming in. It was of a worried young man, of someone who was... well, for lack of a better word, scared a bit of what could possibly be so important that all of this secrecy, that so many people were involved...

Harry took a deep breath, "Well, like one thing being... that I'm Harry Potter."

From the look of complete astonishment on Percy's face, it was obvious that whatever he was expecting to hear first, it was _not_ that.

"But..." Madam Bones turned to where Sirius was, who smiled and waved. "But..."

Harry took off his headband that blended in with his skin, pulled back his hair to reveal the famous scar.

"You might want to take a seat," Harry said quietly, looking at the three who were looking all around the room and back at him in shock. "It's a bit of a long story..."


	15. Chapter 15

"_Lie to a liar, for lies are his coin; Steal from a thief, for that is easy; lay a trap for a trickster and catch him at first attempt, but beware of an honest man"_

-Old Proverb

* * *

**15.**

There were a lot of truths to tell Percy. Finally though, the words died down, leaving everyone in the room looking at him, a bit worried.

Harry was very worried, to tell the truth. He knew that the Weasleys were famous for their temper, and from the fight Percy had had with his family that summer, he was sure that Percy was capable of it. And while Scrimgeour and Madam Bones had interrupted with questions fairly often, Percy hadn't.

Harry looked at Percy. Leadership had changed him. Any denial that would have taken place due to the slandering of Harry's name from the newspapers, any anger that Percy would have shown was well-contained.

Finally, perhaps knowing that everyone was waiting for his reaction, he looked around.

"Anything else?" Percy inquired calmly.

Slowly, everyone shook their heads. They had told him about the Order of the Phoenix, about Sirius and Harry, about Callahan covering Harry's education, the locket, the visions, especially the one about rigging the election... everything that could have possibly been told.

It was a ticking bomb. Harry was waiting for him to demand Harry go back to himself, that they'll give Sirius a trial, to let the adults handle everything...

"You seem to have taken care of mostly everything, then," Percy said, making everyone gape at him in astonishment. "I won't lie and say I approve of it all. I think that you should all be worrying more about school, especially with OWLs and NEWTs approaching. And Ginny, you're... you're too young for this, really you are." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "But everyone says that about me and this job, so I guess we're even there."

"You're... taking this... really, really good Perce," Fred said slowly.

"It's either scream and lose my mind completely or realize this isn't a bad thing," Percy said. He looked at Harry, "Is that why you were helping me so much? Because of this?"

"No," Harry said immediately. "I was helping you because I think you're right in this. I agree with the things you're doing. That's why I got involved and everything. I... I just didn't want you think think this was a militia or anything."

Percy nodded and looked at Scrimgeour and Madam Bones, "Know anything about horcruxes?"

"We will in a few days," Madam Bones replied. "Frankly, I'm more concerned about the election."

Scrimgeour nodded in agreement, as did a few others.

"I think the ICW is capable of handling the issue," Percy said, thinking.

Harry thought for a few seconds, "You think they might know whatever he's planning?"

"Probably planned ahead for something like it, yes," Percy said. "This isn't the first time they've stepped into an election, after all." The Minister of Magic looked around the room and slowly smiled, "I do have a few ideas though."

"What?"

"We want equality. Just because nobody knows about this group doesn't mean we can't adhere to our own principles."

Remus slowly smiled, "Other beings."

"Right in one, Professor," Percy answered with a smile. "Would that be all right with everyone here?"

"Yeah," Aberforth answered. "Slight thing though, going back to that election issue."

"I've thought about it too," Hermione offered quietly, making everyone turn. Making her a bit nervous due to all the attention, she said, "Mr. Malfoy threatened the board of governors back in second year to make them tell Dumbledore to leave. What if the candidate for the Death Eater does the same thing? There won't be much to worry about at the actual polls then."

"The little missy's on the right track," Aberforth said.

"Got that right," Alastor grunted. "Knowing Albus..."

Aberforth nodded, rolling his eyes, "That dolt of a brother of mine will probably convince someone in the Order to run against you as well."

"I thought the Headmaster liked some of the changes..." Percy said, looking around.

Remus chuckled, "He thinks that your associate, Mr. Light Porter over there, is a dark wizard in the beginning stages. He feels that Light will take over the Ministry."

Madam Bones began to laugh at this, true laughter that was infectious because everyone because to laugh as well at the thought being voiced aloud. Because really, it was funny. One simple mistake that it seemed just made things so easy. And normally the man wasn't easy to fool, but his past mistakes really were making sure that he just stayed... blind.

And well, once the truth was known, the idea of Harry Potter being Dark was just laughable. Harry Potter, who lost his family to those that practiced dark arts? Harry Potter being like those bigots when his cousin was a werewolf, when the people he admired most were a werewolf and those that broke rules, including that of their social status and family backgrounds?

"So they have spies in the Death Eaters and the Ministry." Percy looked thoughtful.

"Actually, not as much as you'd expect," Sirius piped up. "Remember, you've got some on different guard details now. Can't exactly pass for being in the Ministry. Its one of the reasons why Dumbledore thinks Harry is a dark wizard."

Madam Bones nodded, "Names will be hard to get due to the protections that Dumbledore has up, I'm sure. But we'll make do. And besides, if they want to play the spy game, well... we have them a bit beat. In any age group." This was said with a slight smile towards the younger folks. "My niece would have quite the fit, I'm sure, you lot being here and not her."

Everyone nodded, knowing that was probably quite true. "Our next meeting will have to be another day when you're all free. Or evening, if you two are involved." Percy said this with a look at his younger twin brothers, who, far from looking sheepish, beamed proudly.

"School starts tomorrow. We can have a meeting this weekend."

"I'll go inform the others that I'll be bringing," Percy said standing. "And then I'll have to attempt to prepare for election day, I suppose. Since it's an emergency election, at least my opponents won't have as long as usual to slander my name. A few days."

"Bad enough," Dudley grumbled, everyone nodding in agreement.

"Let's get going. And... Light?" Percy looked at Harry with a smile. "Thank you."

Harry swallowed hard and said quietly, "We're... we're still... okay?"

Percy nodded. "It wasn't easy to tell me, I'm sure. We're fine. Settle things here, I'll be talking with Ragnok and a few others before heading back to the Ministry. See you there?"

"Definitely." Harry watched as they left and the others looked at each other, rather proud. "That went well."

Ginny nodded, "I was expecting a lot worse. I guess all this has changed him a bit."

George scoffed, "Not a bad thing. Perce was a bit of a prat."

"A bit?" Fred muttered.

"Enough of that," Alastor said, making them fall silent. "We have other things to think about. When you lot get back to school, try to find anything related to Voldemort. We'll keep trying to make Albus see that things aren't as dire as he thinks-"

"Not going to happen. Heaven forbid he admits he was wrong," Aberforth said.

"And just keep going as normal!" Alastor finished, making Harry share a look with his cousin, who was trying hard to not smile. Harry couldn't help it though and soon the two of them broke out into giggles. It was just so insane, this entire situation now was just filed under the category of normal for them.

Harry passed some time with his friends that day before heading to the Ministry to help tackle the monster of paperwork that still somehow managed to be there despite everything going on. He was calm at first, but as the days passed, he grew nervous because he learned of the people running against Percy.

Peter Yaxley was a Death Eater. Harry had seen him in his visions, but there was no definite proof. He knew all about the ins and outs of the Ministry and many 'traditional' people were supporting him. Not all were Death Eaters; some really were just against so many sudden changes being made.

The person from the Order was Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror with an excellent reputation. He was known in the Ministry as a very decent person and Harry could see from his record that he was good at his job. He was fair to everyone he met and Harry had to admit that if it wasn't for the fact that he supported Percy fully that Shacklebolt would have been an excellent choice.

And then there was, of course, Percy. Younger than both of the others by decades, and well, it was fairly easy for people to just indicate the fallout and changes he made so rapidly, easy for them to remind people of how young Percy was and oh, it was to be expected due to the manner he received the office in, trying to lump him in with Fudge and Umbridge.

Percy didn't bother retaliating against them because, as he stated many times, he was too busy working. Harry didn't like it very much, but he could understand Percy's logic. The first meeting with all of the people in the new group of the Ministry went... extremely well. There had been representatives there even from the merpeople.

That hadn't been as hard as Harry had thought it'd be. Aberforth had found a huge tank and Percy had authorized a portkey for the ones there. The hard thing, according to Aberforth, was hiding the tank from 'his nosy overbearing brother.' Harry had found it rather funny.

Though the group was the equivalent of an undercover department for the Ministry, Harry had noticed that the goblins and others seemed to think of it as extremely significant, even if nobody knew about it. Callahan had said it was because it showed that the Minister was very serious about equality, even when the public didn't see.

Harry supposed that made sense in an odd way. But he did still feel slightly guilty despite all the hectic activity and having told almost everything.

Almost... because he hadn't told about his correspondence with one Gellert Grindelwald.

The former dark lord had helped a lot with his knowledge, his insights. Harry genuinely enjoyed writing to the man. He was smart and funny. It was easy to see how he had convinced Albus Dumbledore to be friends. And it was easy to feel nervous writing to him. Had he really changed? Was it all an act, to try and get close?

Harry didn't know. It was why he made sure that he was keeping the correspondence quiet. He had written back after the last letter, thanking the man for telling him about intents and the like.

But the words from the last letter still rang in Harry's head sometimes.

… _Like a game, like the best drug, the best... there was no words for the feeling. It was better than any spell, any potion, and completely superficial..._

Did Voldemort feel that way? Harry wondered it more than ever now. Why go out of his way to rig elections and the like? Obviously it was all for power.

But why? No one could be born evil, Harry was sure of that. Had Voldemort just gone too far in his hunt for knowledge like Grindelwald? But he had been sixteen when he had killed someone with the basilisk.

It was complicated. Harry didn't know why, but he felt that learning the dark lord's past, learning things like that, might help a fair bit in the future.

_Though_, he thought ruefully, _it wouldn't be much help with the election, would it?_

It was early one morning as Harry sat thinking, looking at the Daily Prophet. Everyone else was at school, but he had been up late researching and the like, and so his schedule was not the same as theirs. So he was looking at the articles now, raising an eyebrow at one.

_ICW at odds with committees about number of ballots._

Harry made a face. The committees were headed by mainly traditional people that didn't like the changes. They had all been rather supportive of the ideals of the Death Eaters. Harry tried rather hard to push that from his mind. That wouldn't matter right now. They still had charge of the committees... and the committees usually prepared things for the election.

Due to turnouts in the past, the committees seemed to believe that the ICW wanted too many things. They were deeming it a waste of resources and the like.

The ICW was stating that the amount of ballots was perhaps enough for 5% of the entire population of the country, and of those there weren't _any_ made for allowances for beings like centaurs and merpeople.

The article then went into a long claim of how they weren't beings...

Harry felt tired and he pushed the newspaper away. Reading the news lately just seemed to make him more and more irritable. It seemed that most of the time, it was the other two candidates trying to make Percy look bad... and the rest of the world in the international section seemed to be begging for their country to 'finally join the modern world.' They seemed to like the youngest Minister and Harry desperately hoped others would vote for him.

The ICW's emergency election would be the next day, and Harry was very very nervous.

He knew who all of Dudley's people would vote for... he tried not to smile as he wondered how many of the beings would vote for Percy. The goblins were rather obvious... but who else would vote?

The teen sighed. Worrying would do nothing. This slander against Percy's changes and himself... he couldn't understand how Percy just didn't argue back. Every time someone tried, he would retort that he had work to do. He had to catch up with things, deal with Voldemort, try and make amends with the international community, and fix education.

Though the editorial by the WWN made Harry chuckle.

'_Minister Weasley has actually done his job instead of lounging in his office. Everyone seems to say the obvious of what's going on. Nobody is saying what they would do in his stead. Would they continue to allow the status quo of bigotry, ignorance and isolation?'_

It went on in that manner. The boy shook his head and went to help out at the Ministry as usual. But as he did so, he couldn't help but wonder if this would be the end of everything. If Percy lost... Harry would still help Dudley, of course, but Voldemort would go after him.

The thought made Harry feel queasy. He knew he had to be ready, be prepared. The blood wards would be helpful. But Madam Bones and Scrimgeour and _Percy_... they had given up everything willingly...

Everyone had. Everyone involved in their group had sacrificed so much. To have people that didn't know any of it voting... people that were going to try and rig this election, the ICW fighting for every little thing...

The teen took a deep breath and forced himself to help with the paperwork. If it was his last day there, nobody would be able to say that they didn't work until the end.

And maybe the election would be okay. With the protection the ICW was setting up, Harry had no idea how Voldemort would rig it. But if anyone would find a way...

"Focus," Percy said, making Harry nod and grab more work.

Right now, all he could do was be patient, wait, and help. And that's exactly what he did until the next day arrived and the news only talked about one thing: the election. He had classes in the morning, but Harry couldn't really think about them.

He still felt sick after having heard the WWN that morning talking about voter intimidation, at attempts of destroying voter areas and even spells that worked around the wards, that made people run to the restroom, or itch uncontrollably. And some people were saying they couldn't see anything on the ballots...

At the same time, there were a lot of good things too. The highest voter turnout in _centuries_, with beings of all kinds voting, including centaurs and goblins, being the main one. There was a record-high amount of Muggleborns voting too, with some of them saying that for the first time it 'seemed as if the election wasn't rigged.' People weren't allowing the spells to stop them either, having some people just conjuring up things to deal with the itching and the like. And still others were just enacting their own wards to cope.

"Light, a little attention would be nice," Callahan said, making the teen jump and look at him.

"Sorry," Harry said quietly. "Just..."

"I know," Callahan murmured, sighing. "I know. But worrying won't solve anything."

Frustrated, the boy looked at him. "How can you be so _calm_?" Harry demanded. "Depending on who wins this will depend on if we have to go into hiding and how we fight!"

The man gave Harry a look, "You can be worried and still work. You've done it before."

Harry fell silent at that. Callahan was right... he had. The problems he faced had never stopped him before. If the worst happened, it would happen. He would face it when it did, just as he always had.

Energy and a bit of hope renewed, Harry set back to work.

Everything seemed as normal as it could get until the evening version of the Daily Prophet arrived. There was a huge headline on it saying how Peter Yaxley had won by a landslide and how hardly anyone voted in favor of the amendments... it was horrible.

"What?" Callahan said, staring at the paper.

Harry looked at him with horror, "Should we go get the others?"

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "I'm confused because the polls aren't even closed yet."

"What?" Harry looked at the newspaper in surprise. "But..."

Callahan took out his pocket watch to show Harry,"It's six pm." When Harry nodded, the man continued, "The polls don't close until 10."

Harry looked back at the paper, indignant now. "But they said they did surveys and everything! And now everybody is going to think that there's no point or anything!"

The man nodded, "I'm aware. In the Muggle world, the news isn't allowed to report on election results for that reason. The ICW can't exactly prosecute the Daily Prophet for it, because it's not against the law here. Nobody really ever did anything regarding it before."

Harry wanted to mutter a few comments he was sure that Callahan wouldn't approve of. "They're really trying to rig this, aren't they?" He mumbled.

"Politics," Callahan said with a shrug. "Don't worry. I'm sure that the ICW will ensure that everyone knows polls are still open. And the Wireless is providing information too, remember." He sighed and continued, "Still, this is just another sign of what many have wanted for a while. Businesses need competition."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

The familiar voice of Snape answered from the entrance, "Business and economic competition in most countries is often limited or restricted. Competition often is subject to legal restrictions. The Ministry practically owns the Prophet, Cal, everyone knows that. And they restricted competition against it."

"The Quibbler," Cal grumbled, shaking his head. "It's a tabloid, Light."

"Oh," Harry said, looking at Snape, who was holding a bag.

His potions professor shook his head tiredly, "This dolt probably hasn't been eating properly," he explained, indicating Callahan. "Everyone has been under a lot of stress lately, but that's no excuse to starve yourself."

"Oh, if this isn't the pot calling the kettle black," Callahan protested immediately.

Snape ignored him, setting the bag down. Harry could smell the delicious food inside now and his mouth watered. "Has had you working all day, I'll wager," Snape murmured, giving Callahan a look. "Cal, I know the elections have you concerned, but really..."

"And what, you're not?" He retorted.

"Not as badly as the Headmaster," Snape answered. "He actually _fainted _when he read the headline to the evening edition. Minerva brought him to the hospital wing. How he could actually believe the Daily Prophet is beyond me, it's rubbish. I've used it for everything except reading."

Harry blinked, unable to keep a slight grin from his face. "Like what?"

Callahan raised an eyebrow as he took food out from the bag. "Well, Sev?"

"I used it to muffle my alarm clock today," Snape mumbled, not look at either of them. While Callahan burst into laughter and Harry bit his cheek to keep from laughing, the man continued, "Honestly, for a lot of things. I've used it to keep the space under my typewriter neater, used it in my garden to keep out weeds, to line storage boxes, and I practice both origami and transfiguration with it. Origami keeps me from killing my students daily. I'll make cranes, lots of them, charm them to fly, and then blast them."

Both Callahan and Harry were just staring at Snape.

"... What?" He asked, almost defensively, looking his usual irritated self.

Callahan spoke, "Just that the stress relief habits of Severus Snape are so... intriguing. Never would have thought of doing that myself."

"Because you're an idiot," Snape said it so matter-of-factly that Harry couldn't help but laugh. Yes, it was Snape that said it, but it was still rather funny.

"Oh, so are you," Callahan retorted, serving the beef stew and potatoes. Harry breathed in deeply. Delicious. So delicious. "Thanks Sev," Callahan said, smiling and making servings for three.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said.

Snape just rolled his eyes and waved his hand, "Eat. I'll never be able to work with you hanging off me in gratitude." With that, the man went to the other side of the tent and began to brew a bit. As they began to eat though, Snape spoke, "Cal, what on earth did you do to Potter?"

"Huh?" Callahan and Harry both shared a look, both thinking the same thing: _Sirius._ "Has he done something?"

"Judging from his new-found ability to crash into the goalposts on the Quidditch Pitch, I think his House is going to lose their games if they keep him on the team," Snape said, shaking his head. "Then there's the potions classes. He keeps saying things I've never taught my class because they were outdated last decade. And he doesn't seem to know half the staff or students. And his handwriting... It isn't the same. Something's happened to him, but there's no sign of what."

"I haven't really seen him," Callahan murmured quietly. "Please, continue if you don't mind."

"It's as if he's petrified to misstep or something. Albus... is placing the blame on someone who isn't involved at all, but he doesn't want to listen." Snape gave Harry the briefest of glances here, but Harry knew what it was for.

"Crashing into the goalposts?" Callahan asked with concern.

"Apparently, his mumbled excuse was 'these are faster than the brooms I'm used to.''" Snape said it while making quotation marks with his fingers. "When Ms. Johnson heard that, she shrieked that he's had the broom for two years and he's never had an issue with a broom. When Potter answered he hadn't practiced, Ms. Johnson screamed so loudly that Minerva took away points." The man chuckled and shook his head. "They brought him to the hospital wing with Ms. Johnson swearing the crash caused brain damage."

Callahan and Harry shared another look of concern. They hadn't counted on the actual _work_ being an issue. Sirius _would_ be decades out of practice with school and schedules and having been in Azkaban for so long probably hadn't helped those things any either.

"Saying things that are outdated?" Harry asked now, looking a bit worried. His marks were at stake...

"Yes, and he glowers when I state as much," Snape said, his usual sneer on his face now.

"Oh Sev, show a little pity-" Callahan began.

"Look, I'm sorry Cal, but sarcasm is my mind's natural response to stupidity." Snape said it quickly, irritated. "No. Look, I think something's happened to your charge. I don't know what. I don't know how. But _something_ has happened. Probably during that time he ran away, idiot brat."

Harry stuffed his mouth with potato to repress the urge to retort.

"Sev, stop it," Cal said. "We would have done the same thing in that situation and you know it. Unable to trust family, not able to find your friends and being slandered?"

Snape made a hmming noise before nodding assent, "I suppose. But still, I do think _something_ happened." He shook his head, "For all I know right now, that Dementor might have put someone else's soul into Potter. Albus won't say anything as long as the boy doesn't do anything ominous, but I won't just abandon Lily's son to that fate."

Callahan looked at Snape, looked rather grave and serious now. "Sev, do you want me to make an appearance? As the boy's guardian, I have that right. Do you want me to pull him from Hogwarts, get to the bottom of this?"

"...No," Snape said, shaking his head. "Albus does have his best interests at heart, in the end. And he is a huge deterrent to those that would go after the boy. I just thought you should know. After all... the last time someone returned from a break acting differently, the Dark Lord was living on the back of his head." Snape looked both irritated and sick at the memory of Quirrel and Harry couldn't really blame him.

"I'll speak with him, see if everything is all right," Callahan said quietly.

Snape nodded, waving his wand and smirking. "Your stock is fine now. You're welcome."

"Oh rub it in, Potions Master," Callahan rolled his eyes while Harry tilted his head.

"I thought we couldn't use magic on those," Harry said.

"_You_ can't use magic on those," Callahan answered. "And I usually don't. _This_ one has compiled a chemical effect study on them and _won't share the blasted results._"

"Why not?" Harry gave Snape a look.

"It's not considered legitimate," Snape answered, looking tired. "Muggle information sources aren't usually considered an acceptable resource in the magical potions community here. If I said the spell, I'd have to state how it works before it can be taught. When I say the chemical structure..." He shrugged.

"But why can't you show..." Harry looked at Callahan.

"Showing invented spells to others puts you in the league with Death Eaters and other militias," Callahan explained. "That's why inventions in the magical world are so rare, there's so much red tape and so much ignorance that many fields of research are blocked."

Harry looked at the evening paper's headline that mocked him despite hours to go until the election was over. Research blocked just because of the source. Beings not granted equality for years upon years because of what they were. How could the world that he loved, the place he had run to, the greatest escape after such a horrid life with his relatives, be so completely and utterly backwards in so many ways?

"Well, Light, you can get going," Callahan said, giving him a smile.

"All right. Thank you, sir," Harry said, waving and leaving. After stopping by to see his cousin and Bathilda, he went to the Ministry. It was a bit later now, almost ten, but Percy was still working.

"Did you see that stupid headline?" Harry demanded as he entered the office.

Percy looked up, "Hm? I haven't, I'm sorry."

"Look!" Harry gave him the paper as a chime went through the Ministry.

"The polls just closed," Percy mused. "Evening edition. Perhaps they have a time turner." He chuckled.

"Percy!" Harry said, trying to protest but rolling his eyes instead.

"If they do, I didn't issue it," Percy said, shrugging and reading. A knock on the door a few minutes later made Harry and Percy look up.

It was Robyn Driendl, the current Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, accompanied by a few Enforcers.

"Hello madam," Percy said, standing and shaking her hand politely. She smiled at Harry and looked at the newspaper before chuckling.

The Enforcers looked and began to mutter to each other, Harry hearing the words 'Dewey Defeats Truman repeat.' What did that mean?

Driendl explained it, "Surveying the small part of the population, stopping early, a tiny amount," she said, sighing. "For too long, people here have not counted _all_ of the beings. And it showed. Perhaps you should turn on the Wireless, sir."

Percy did so with a wave of his wand and Harry could hear the shouting and cheering.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley has won the election! He is still the Minister of Magic for the next few years!"

Shock.

Sheer, undiluted _shock_ was on Percy's face. Harry couldn't laugh. He was stunned too. He had expected Shacklebolt to win and had been scared of Yaxley's winning, especially after the newspaper... but... he had hoped, oh yes, he had hoped Percy would win, but really, who would vote for someone who was so young?

Percy had _won._

"Congratulations, Minister Weasley," Driendl said, smiling. "Your election had the highest voter turnout in centuries and you won by a landslide... and so did your reforms."

Percy just stared at her, stunned. "I-I won?" He was stunned.

"Yes." The Supreme Mugwump smiled. "You're not just a fill-in, not just a mistake, Minister. Your people do believe you are the best for this job. Your friends always have, obviously." She smiled at Harry before turning back to Percy, "And so have we. You are one of the best things to happen to this country. Perhaps now..." she smiled hearing what sounded like someone turning on fireworks on the Wireless. "Perhaps now you will believe it too. Good night, sir."

The two watched them leave and Harry looked at Percy, who was _stunned._

"So... now what, Perce?" Harry asked.

The youngest Minister of Magic stared at him for a few seconds before shaking himself out of the shock.

"Now?" Percy asked, his blue eyes glittering. "Now we work twice as hard. Get a quill and a move on, we've got work to do."

Shaking his head, Harry did just that.


	16. Chapter 16

"_Concentrate all your thoughts upon the work at hand. The sun's rays do not burn until brought to a focus."  
_-Alexander Graham Bell

* * *

**16.**

Harry was exhausted just from _listening_ to the WWN and helping Percy work. He hadn't lied. It seemed as if he was determined to work twice as hard even though he had more years to get things passed.

When Harry had asked why, because they had time, Percy had retorted, "That was probably the same attitude that led to all of this in the first place."

It wasn't as if the teen could argue with that logic... and so sighing, Harry had worked. And worked. And _worked._

Would it never end?

_Complaining won't solve things,_ Harry thought. _Just focus and work._

He continued working, berating himself for whining, even if it was just silently. After a few hours, Percy suggested a break for Harry. The teen reluctantly nodded, tired and a bit hungry, but he didn't really want to leave the office just yet. And he was curious, of course. "Percy, you won the election, but what exactly is it you want to do first?"

The Minister of Magic looked up at Harry over his glasses and blinked, thinking. "Truthfully, first I would like to have the election for the new Wizengamot seats. Then I would like to propose the overturning of the Wand Ban for non-Humans."

"Do you think they'll do that? I mean it's-" Harry broke off with a strangled shout. His scar hurt, far worse than usual. What was this? What was going on?

Anger swirled in him, sheer undiluted rage unlike any he had ever felt before and the sheer pain in his scar made him clutch his head trying to make it stop. But there was something else in the anger... something else under it... to do this at any cause... Anger and... and... desperation?

"Light!" A hand was shaking him. "Harry!"

"What?" Harry blinked, confused. What had happened? What...? He squinted a bit to see Percy's concerned face over him. "Percy?"

"Oh thank Merlin," the young man said with a sigh of relief. "You just began screaming. What is it? What happened?"

"It... it's Voldemort," Harry said, swallowing hard and trying to think. "He... He's really angry. And something else, like he's... I don't know, desperate."

Percy frowned and seemed about to question more when the fireplace flared up. Both of them looked over towards it, concerned. Had parties gotten out of hand?

An Auror stood there, bleeding and wild-eyed. "Minister, sir," she panted, and both Harry and Percy could hear the noise and screams from another nearby fireplace in the background.

"Yes," Percy said, looking quite concerned. "What is it?"

The Auror panted more and spoke, "Azkaban is under attack, sir."

"What?" Percy asked, eyes wide. Harry was stunned as well. The election had just finished and now this!?

"W-We think that i-i-it's Y-Y-You-Know-Who, s-sir,"

"I'll be right there," Percy said, standing. He glanced at Harry, who managed to stand.

"I'm going too," he said, swallowing nervously. Azkaban had always been spoken of in only whispers, a looming horror that had made Hagrid scared and Sirius wouldn't speak of his time there. The tales, in a way, reminded Harry of stories his aunt and uncle would say about orphanages, how he would rot there and had to be grateful to them for taking him in...

It was only when he was older when Harry realized that orphanages didn't exist anymore and as for grateful... His aunt had taken him, yes, but had never made it a secret that she loathed him.

Would it have been different if the Changeling hadn't been there, making things worse?

Harry would never know. And this wasn't the time to bode on those thoughts.

"Are you sure?" Percy looked at him with concern. "Well... all right. Come on. We'll use the fireplace to call Amelia and Rufus. I'm sure the ICW will be responding fast too."

Harry nodded and followed him through the green flames of the Floo.

It was a simple office, where he was, obviously not a place where someone stayed to be comfortable, with a few desks-simple but not small. Harry could see the little shelves that he recognized from the back area of Percy's office. These must be prisoner files and other necessary things for the prison. He could see there were a few other fireplaces but the door was solid, the kind of door that would last an attack.

Percy, true to his word, had summoned Madam Bones and Scrimgeour. The two seemed tired but alert. Harry could relate. He was exhausted from worry and hoping today could just be a night to relax. And some were still celebrating the election!

Maybe that was why Voldemort planned this attack. It was unexpected.

"All right," Percy said in the voice Harry remembered clearly from his first Halloween at Hogwarts, his 'take charge' voice. "All of you with me, wands out. We have to ensure no prisoners escape and drive away the threat. Eyes open and watch out." They nodded and followed Percy, the wand in his left hand firmly. It still felt a bit odd but Harry had adjusted to it mostly.

The halls outside of the office reminded Harry of going to Snape's class. Azkaban's layout seemed very much like the Hogwarts dungeons and he could see inmates cursing at them through the bars, some laughing at them, others looking just as frightened.

That struck Harry as interesting. So even here, where people were because they fought violently against the changes, were scared of Voldemort. And he was a man who touted their beliefs, though he was, of course, an insane Dark Lord. Well... his intelligence was odd. He was obviously smart and yet...

Harry knew that Gellert Grindelwald had explained it a bit in his letters but he still didn't exactly comprehend it. Perhaps it was good, in a way, that he didn't. The Dark Arts had taken too much from him, and Harry did not want to turn into what he fought.

The most noise was coming from above them, it seemed. He could hear shouts and more people rushing in, which made him feel better. All too soon, he could see the spells being fired.

It was strange, Harry realized; he often didn't hear the incantations he had been learning at Hogwarts. Sometimes he did but others he noticed the wizards or witches weren't speaking when saying these spells. He made a note to mention this to Callahan during their next lesson, to see if the man knew why that was and Harry wondered if he could learn how to do it.

It felt like a shockwave, but Harry could see that it was a spell. Voldemort had waved his hand, making about five people fall from whatever spell that had been. He swallowed nervously, still behind Percy, and took in the scene, trying to not shake from the sudden cold that he knew was brought from Dementors.

They were everywhere above them; if you didn't know better you would just think it a very foggy night. But the Dementors were everywhere, causing the night sky to be blocked from view. And the scream, a familiar one, in his head.

His mother.

His father.

No no no. He shoved the voices away, focusing on his friends and summoning a patronus to attack the Dementors. He could see others doing the same. But nothing was happening, it seemed. And the few Death Eaters were vicious too...

His head.

Oh Merlin, his head... it ached so badly from the throbbing pain in his scar. He held a hand against it, gasping in pain.

A hand lightly gripped his shoulder. Madam Bones looked at him. "Do you need to get-"

"I'm staying," Harry said stubbornly, swallowing hard and trying to gain control of himself. But it was difficult, to say the least.

_Come on, Potter_,he thought to himself. _After a basilisk and losing bones and the tournament... after everything, this should be easy. Shut it out. _

He felt a bit pathetic, having to take a few seconds to calm himself before a fight and he glanced at Scrimgeour. How could the man always say he'd be a good Auror when he couldn't deal with this in stride?

Instead, the man seemed to be grinning at him broadly, almost proudly. "You all right?"

Harry nodded mutely, quite nervous but ready.

"Good. Calming yourself and being logical is never time wasted. Let's go."

The boy swallowed hard and followed Percy into the fray, wondering who some of these Death Eaters were. Could Voldemort have actually used the Imperius Curse on some people to bolster up his troops? Harry hadn't expected so many of them to be here right now. He expected more to be locked in the prison.

It was strange but the boy didn't have much time to dwell on all of that.

The spells were flying, the wands a blur as people fought. Harry quickly joined in, using the spells he had learned for the tournament the year before and figuring that one person Stunned meant one less person to fight.

It was mayhem, just full of noise and spells. Were the screams from the battle or from the memories the Dementors always brought up? Harry didn't know. He fought despite it, shooting a patronus whenever he could spare the time. Others had the same idea and the sky was lit with spells flying all around due to the fierce dueling.

Harry lost track of Madam Bones and Scrimgeour but Percy stuck near him, which was a relief. Aurors were constantly moving around them as well, and Harry could see that Regulators had joined the fray, seeing one in the red light of a stunning spell he cast on someone that was running and screaming at them.

The flashing of green light made him turn with worry. There. Voldemort. Harry swallowed hard, quite nervous, but before he could move, Voldemort had vanished and Harry felt himself shoved out the way. He looked back to see Percy had done it, dodging as well while Voldemort was where they had just been, shooting a killing curse towards where Percy had stood.

The darkest wizard of the age stood firing spell after spell against the youngest Minister. He was fast, Harry could see-far faster than he could remember Voldemort being in the graveyard. Had he taken potions or something? Percy couldn't even take out his wand to fight back, due to being too busy dodging and blocking. Voldemort's wand was a blur if that, moving so fast that Harry knew Percy wouldn't be able to keep this up.

Someone had to distract Voldemort with a spell, but given how fast he was moving, a duel with him was impossible. Harry looked around for help but everyone was busy as the dark wizard advanced upon Percy.

"And now," the dark lord said with a cold laugh, "your term ends, _Minister._"

Harry could see Percy was near the edge of the roof. He couldn't dodge much more and with Voldemort, killing curses were going to be it. This couldn't be, not now!

And then, an impossible solution occurred to Harry, one he was pretty sure no decent wizard would ever think of, but the boy stood and ran at Voldemort, tackling him in a way that would have made any rugger cheer. The man had been so fixated on Percy that he had completely forgotten Harry.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Harry was screaming in pain and fury. His _head_, upon touching Voldemort the pain in his head was so much he almost let go, but he couldn't. The insane tackle, Harry could see through his pain, had actually _worked._ Voldemort's wand was laying a few feet away.

The wizard tried to throw him off, but for all his magical might, his physical strength didn't match it, not with all the lifting and work Harry had been doing this summer. The boy managed to hold on tightly, barely able to, reminding him very much of when he had been eleven and had so stupidly tackled a troll in a similar way.

Percy wasn't stupid. The first thing he did was kick Voldemort's wand over the few feet to the edge of the roof. A roar of fury erupted from the Dark Lord and Harry quickly let him go as the man dove over the edge to retrieve his wand.

Seeing this, his followers quickly followed suit, many trying to leave but being captured while others did manage to escape. Percy and Harry looked tentatively over the edge at the roaring Voldemort, who was _flying._ He had his wand back, but Harry could see the reinforcements arriving, could see that the tide had turned on this surprise attack. The teen watched all of this, panting, exhausted not only from everything earlier, but from this battle as well.

Perhaps Voldemort knew it was a losing fight, because he vanished and didn't reappear. Harry sighed with relief.

"I think," Percy said quietly, "that we all need to take the rest of tonight and some of tomorrow off."

"Hear, hear," Scrimgeour said, stumbling behind him.

Harry turned to survey the damage. Mostly structural, but some people had fallen too. It pained him to imagine if they had families and the like. And he knew it was worse for Percy, because he was the one who would have to tell their families.

"What did he possibly hope to accomplish?" Harry asked, shaking his head.

"To get his most dangerous followers," Madam Bones answered darkly. "We'll have to be on guard even more now. He seems desperate." She looked at Harry, "And you-what did you think you were doing?!"

"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "Trying to stop him in an unexpected way..."

"And if both of you had fallen?!"

"It was a battle," Percy said quietly, making them look. "Light knew the risks, as do we all."

"Minister, surely-"

Percy gave her a tired look and the woman sighed. The young Minister continued, "If I had my way madam, there wouldn't be a war. But V-Voldemort has insisted on this. And so we have no choice. As for youth, you remember he attacks infants and children too. And so yes, though many of us are young, I am sure that they are calculating the risks too, and doing what all of us are attempting: to save the ones we love and defend our world against a powerful madman."

Harry sighed and nodded, "Yeah. And he wasn't expecting it. That's the only reason it worked..."

"Just... be careful," Madam Bones said with a sigh.

The Warden of the prison found Percy and soon, arrangements were made with some Aurors and Regulators for guard duties. Quite exhausted, Harry was basically commanded by Percy to go get some sleep.

Tiredly, Harry used the floo at Azkaban to head to Godric's Hollow and he made his way to Bathilda's house. It seemed like a long walk, probably due to his exhaustion, and Harry was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

It wasn't very surprising to Harry that he woke up so very late the next day. He took a long shower to help soothe the bruises he had from tackling Voldemort a few hours before and went to a nearby hair salon in the village to be sure that his blond hair was touched up a bit-he had noticed some of his jet black hair when he had showered and knew it wouldn't be a wise idea to lose the disguise, especially now.

Still a bit tired, Harry bought some pumpkin juice for Bathilda and brought it back.

"Oh Gellert!" She said quite happily. "Pumpkin juice!"

Harry laughed, "I'll make us some sandwiches and we can have it with them."

"That sounds lovely!" The older woman beamed at him while Harry smiled and began to make sandwiches. It was as he was cutting the bread that they both heard the explosion.

An explosion that sounded very much like a door being broken down. Harry grabbed his wand and looked at Bathilda with confusion. She drew hers as well, taking her cue from the worried Harry, who looked into the other room and froze in horror.

_Voldemort._ Here?!

"Little Light Porter, here you are," the man snarled. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry quickly ducked behind the wall. "Bathilda, run!" He shouted.

"But the Muggles-!"

"That doesn't matter right now! Run!" The two ran to the back door and moved into the yard, Harry looking all around with fear. What the hell was Voldemort _thinking_?! Attacking them right now, in the middle of the afternoon in a village where Muggles lived!?

The insane dark wizard appeared at the doorway. "You will never see your precious Minister again, Porter. Or your little friends." A cold high laugh. "Light is lost. Forever. _Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry dodged, grabbing Bathilda and pushing her ahead of him. The elderly woman blasted the hedges and the two ran into the streets outside.

"This way," Bathilda said, taking Harry's hand and leading him up, away from the main area of the village. Harry risked a glance and saw they were heading towards his childhood home, where his parents had died.

He could feel something from Voldemort as they approached, as he drew closer to them. Fear. He was scared of this house, this place.

Memories.

He was remembering that Halloween.

Good. Harry wanted him to be afraid. But more than that, right now, he just wanted Bathilda and himself to be safe. "Bathilda," Harry panted. "Go. I'll hold him off."

"I'm not leaving you," the elderly witch said simply. Harry could see she was afraid but determined.

"I can't Apparate," Harry said. "You can. Go get help."

The woman just gave him a stubborn look, the same look Harry was used to now for pumpkin juice demands. "No."

"All right," Harry mumbled, running with her. Voldemort was still laughing insanely, following them and shooting spells. He fired off a disarming charm towards the dark lord, but it was blocked with ease.

Bathilda yelped and Harry turned just in time to see the area around them explode. Sirius sprung to his mind at that moment, the exploding curse Wormtail had cast that had framed him and destroyed the area. Harry gulped and turned back around.

The land behind him was destroyed and Voldemort was in front of him. There was no place to go.

Harry tried another disarming charm, tried different spells he had learned but they were blocked with ease, Voldemort laughing. Bathilda fired some spells too but they were useless.

Why wasn't anyone coming? Surely someone had to have seen what was happening!

"You humiliated me _boy_," Voldemort snarled, using a spell Harry had never heard of, but it made the area reverberate, reminding him of an earthquake from the movies. Bathilda fell and Harry stayed in front of her protectively, his legs wobbly themselves but his wand didn't falter.

His old wand would have been able to stop this, would have been able to cause that same effect that had happened in the cemetery.

Last time he had dueled Voldemort alone, he had gotten lucky-the cup had been a portkey and he had been able to escape.

This time, there was no way out.

Another strange spell and Harry shouted with pain. He had just been cut and the distraction had made him wandless, the spell severing his hand enough to make it useless.

Voldemort stood a bit away.

"A shame you picked the wrong side, boy." The dark lord said, Harry looking up at him. "You would have made a good Death Eater. _Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry had no way to defend himself, no ability to.

But at that moment the ground rose in front of him, stopping the curse.

"What...?" He breathed, confused, glancing at Bathilda. It hadn't been her...

"I think," stated a clear, calm masculine voice that Harry had never heard before, "that you may wish to reassess your actions, Voldemort."

Harry turned towards the speaker and almost fainted in shock. It was... himself? For a moment, he was confused; He was Harry Potter. Harold Porter, Light Porter, didn't exist. Had he used a time turner?

But then he looked closer. Older. The person standing there was much older, far skinnier than even Harry, and his hair was more white than blonde. The man looked over at them.

"Hello Light," he said with a mischievous smile as he held up the wand Harry had been using. "So good to finally see you in person."

"Who...?" Voldemort hissed, making the man turn as realization dawned on Harry at who this man was who had just saved his life. "_Who are you?_" It was a snarl of fury and Harry could practically feel the hate reverberating around it.

"I?" The man inquired coolly, waving Harry's wand and fixing the destroyed landscape before pointing it directly at Voldemort as he stood in front of Harry and Bathilda, obviously protecting them. "I am Gellert Grindelwald."

The look of shock on Voldemort's face was almost worth the fear Harry was feeling right now. He was positive no one had ever seen such a look on Voldemort's face before.

"I have no quarrel with you, old man," Voldemort snarled, recovering quickly.

"You attack my family in their home and claim you have no quarrel with me?"

"Family?" Voldemort's eyes widened as they flickered between them. "You support what this boy is doing?! _You_?!"

"I do."

"Then you are an old fool that will get what he deserves. _Avada Kedavra!"_

A wave of the wand made the ground take the spell again. "Are you all right?" Gellert inquired, glancing towards Harry and Bathilda, as if Voldemort was no more than an annoying gnat.

"Y-Yeah," Harry stammered, helping Bathilda stand.

"Gellert!" She said pleasantly, looking between him and Harry.

The older man gave a smile, "Hello Aunt Bathilda. You'll have to pardon my rudeness, but I am a tad distracted." He blocked another spell from Voldemort. "Light, keep an eye on her."

Harry nodded and was quite surprised when Bathilda slipped her wand into his hand. "My eyesight," she said, waving her hand. "I know you'll keep me and it safe."

"Y-Yes..." Harry said, looking at Voldemort, who had just shot spells Harry had never even heard of and Gellert had just blocked them. "Y-You're not g-going to kill him, a-are you?"

"No," Gellert replied. "Just keep him here until the authorities arrive." He strode a few feet forward and Harry saw what looked like a thick rope wrap itself around Voldemort, who burned it off. The ashes then rose and wrapped themselves in a strange fog around Voldemort's face.

The next thing Harry saw was Voldemort vanish and reappear a few feet away, and then there were a _ton_ of snakes.

"_Kill him!_" Voldemort snarled, making the snakes rise and start heading towards Gellert, who waved the wand at them, freezing some. The others he hurled towards Voldemort with a flick of the wand. To Harry's surprise, one snake's fangs grazed Voldemort's cheek before it vanished.

Perhaps... just maybe, with Voldemort distracted...

Harry aimed carefully, waiting... waiting... and when Voldemort had just fired an odd fire spell at Gellert, who froze it, Harry muttered, "_Expelliarmus!"_

Voldemort's wand flew out of his hands and he whirled with fury as Harry caught it.

He was a Seeker, after all.

Before Voldemort could react, Gellert did something, Harry didn't know what, but the dark lord fell and chains appeared around his legs and arms, locking him to the ground.

Harry had just taken a breath of relief when he heard Voldemort laugh and felt a searing pain in his scar... and then he heard the soft pops of people Apparating.

Death Eaters? He couldn't see from the searing pain in his scar and so he lifted his wand and shouted quickly, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Even in pain, his instincts were good and he caught the wand that had flown from the closest newcomer's hand.

"Light!" Percy's voice called, concern lacing it. "It's okay!"

The pain receded a bit and Harry squinted, looking at who was closest. Dumbledore, who was staring at him with an almost horrified expression.

And no wand.

Harry glanced at his hand, which held three wands now: Bathilda's, Voldemort's and... Dumbledore's?

_Oh dear._


	17. Chapter 17

"_The devil could change. He was once an angel and may be evolving still."_

~Laurence J. Peter

* * *

**17.**

Harry shook his head to clear it a bit.

_The wand…_

He had gotten it. Sheer dumb luck, but still… he had done it. And Voldemort was caught.

Though Harry suspected he would resist arrest. And Harry knew he could not win in a duel against the dark wizard. Earlier had proven that much, after all; he still had much to learn.

"Er..." What could he say? "Sorry?" he asked more than said it to the still gaping Dumbledore, handing the man back the wand (only to borrow, Harry thought to himself, until the threat of Voldemort was gone) before looking at Percy and holding up Voldemort's wand.

The Minister walked over and took it. He held it for a long few moments before looking directly at Voldemort, who laughed at him.

Then all they heard was a loud SNAP!

Harry gaped in astonishment: Percy had broken Voldemort's wand.

He had been expecting Percy to keep it or maybe even use it, because it was a powerful wand, but breaking it... that he had not expected.

The raving dark lord fell silent, the crimson eyes that promised dreadful things never leaving Percy's face. The young man stared back defiantly. Harry swallowed hard, looking between them.

If anyone had ever doubted Percy Weasley had belonged in Gryffindor, this moment proved them wrong.

"One day," Voldemort said, no tinge of the insanity Harry knew to be there; just a man stating a simple fact, "I will destroy you, Percy Ignatius Weasley."

The area was silent, overly so, and Voldemort continued, as if he were speaking of the weather.

"I will kill your siblings and parents and friends after torturing them. And then I shall destroy your mind, leaving you sane enough to know what you have lost."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine at the words. They were spoken so matter-of-factly... Voldemort was not threatening. He was making a statement.

To the Dark Lord, this was a fact.

Harry looked towards Percy.

There was no trace of fear in the young Minister's face, no trace of any emotion really. Percy took out his wand and aimed it at the broken wand.

Everyone was silent still, watching the obvious sign of authority and power. Even Dumbledore and Gellert were watching with bated breath to see what the Minister of Magic would do or say to the statement that the darkest wizard of the age had said.

"_Incendio."_ The Minister of Magic said simply, burning the wand. There would, Harry realized, be no pieces of his wand's brother. Voldemort would not even have what Hagrid did. "No, Voldemort." Percy looked directly at the Dark Lord now, breathing hard, his blue eyes flashing. "You will never harm another person. You will rot in Azkaban, like your followers, until you die."

"_I will never die."_ The dark lord laughed.

"Then you will be in Azkaban for a very long time," Percy said calmly, standing next to Harry and looking at the Dark Lord.

"Do you think so?" Voldemort laughed and suddenly was gone. Harry whirled, but wasn't expecting a kick to the stomach and he stumbled backwards as Voldemort grabbed Bathilda's wand. Gasping he looked up, seeing Voldemort pointing the wand at Percy.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ He shouted it before anyone could stop it and Harry saw Gellert and Dumbledore both use their wands, knocking Voldemort over…

He wasn't aware he was moving until he had knocked Percy out of the way and then everything around him, Godric's Hollow, Percy, Voldemort, everyone…

It was all gone.

He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be...

He sat up, unscathed, and blushed brightly when he looked down. Where were his clothes?

As soon as the thought occurred to him, there appeared trousers and a shirt. Relieved, Harry dressed quickly and paused; a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

He stood up, looking around. Where was he? The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist. . . .

Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for –

He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.

He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.

"It's beyond your help."

He spun around. Three people stood there: Lily Potter, who had spoken, and behind her, Harry could see James Potter and a girl about his age with light blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

His heart hammered louder than usual. His parents.

But then was he...

"Am I... dead?" Harry asked, looking quite startled.

The girl smiled at him. "Ah," she said, smiling broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, pretty boy, I think not."

They looked at each other, the girl still beaming and Harry glanced at his parents, who also smiled at him.

"Not?" repeated Harry.

"Not," confirmed his father

"But . . ." Harry raised his hand instinctively toward the lightning scar. It did not seem to be there. "But I should have died – he cast the killing curse! I took it for Percy!"

"And that," said Lily with a sad smile, "will, I think, have made all the difference."

"Yes!" The girl said, twirling a bit. "Come along, pretty boy. Let us talk and be merry!"

Harry peered curiously at her and James smiled, "Don't mind the young lady."

"You're younger than I am, James Potter," the girl replied with a laugh.

"I am not! I was in my twenties, you teenager you!"

"I was born before you," she teased back.

"You... you... Lily!" James said, turning with a pout.

Harry, though stunned, couldn't stop the laugh even if he had wanted to.

Lily smiled fondly, "Harry, I am sure you have guessed, but yes... that is Ariana Dumbledore. And now, my wonderful, brave but so foolish son, let us walk."

Harry pouted a bit, "Foolish?"

His mother's bright green eyes looked back at him with such love and concern that it took Harry's breath away, "Harry, my son... my only child... my beautiful baby boy... no matter how necessary... no mother ever wants to see her son die."

He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to not cry, and followed as the three strode away from where the flayed thing lay whimpering, leading him to a bench that Harry had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling.

"You've had quite the interesting summer," James said quietly, looking over his son.

Harry nodded, "I... I thought that it had been Dudley, all these years. When I learned it wasn't I... I know everyone said to stay, but I was so afraid..."

"You acted reasonably despite your fear," Lily said quietly, looking sad. "I never expected Petunia to act that way. I knew she was jealous of me, but she was my only sister..."

James gently draped an arm over Lily's shoulders.

"I had hoped it was something else," Lily told Harry quietly. "That someone had been pulling the strings, something, anything. I wanted so desperately to believe that my own sister wouldn't do such a thing willingly."

"Pulling the strings?" Harry asked, concerned. "What do you mean?"

James spoke now, looking sad, "Perhaps someone wanted you to be manipulatable. We wanted so badly to believe people set things up, to believe people knew. We tried blaming Dumbledore for not noticing, blaming Remus for not helping... but in the end... it was only their nature. No matter how much we wished it, no one had coerced our family into harming you. They chose it. And we felt so guilty, thinking that if we hadn't let our wands go... if we hadn't used those charms..."

"I didn't know she would do that to you, Harry." Lily looked so sad. "I thought she would love you like her own son."

"She does," Harry murmured quietly, a warm flare rising in his chest as he thought of his cousin, his _real_ cousin, the feeling reminding him of how phoenix song made him feel. "She cares for me and Dudley the same way; which is to say, not at all."

"He is a good young man," James said quietly. "Avenged himself without even knowing."

Harry looked curiously at them. "What... what do you mean?"

"Voldemort didn't put the changeling there, son," James said gently. "Fenrir Greyback did, to try and use Lily's family as leverage against us."

Coldness swept through Harry at the thought. Leverage? "But... why?"

"Werewolves were too valuable as allies, as a resource. Voldemort made so many promises to them that Greyback felt a pre-emptive strike against an Order member would be... useful."

Harry looked at the surroundings, finding that it was basically King's Cross Station, though empty and without any trains...

"So it was just... sheer chance that it was Dudley," Harry said quietly. "If we had had other relatives around my age, it probably would have been one of them?"

"Perhaps," James agreed. "But you also have to factor in easiest to get to. Case in point, Draco Malfoy is a distant cousin of yours."

"_What?!_" Harry made a twisted face at that gem of knowledge, causing his father to laugh and Lily to shake her head.

"All the old wizard families are related somehow," Ariana said quietly, looking over at Harry. "You and Voldemort are too."

Harry was about to protest when he remembered what his friends had said and what he earned. "Yeah... the hallows. The Peverells... we are related, just really really distantly." He fell silent a moment, thinking about this. "I... I lost the wand though..."

"No," Ariana said quietly. "The wand has been stolen throughout history, this is true, but there is a difference between a sacrifice and a duel. You did not raise your wand to Voldemort, you did not fight him. The wand wouldn't recognize him as its owner." She leaned back a bit. "My poor brothers..."

"What... what happened to you, Ariana?" Harry asked, hoping it wasn't too rude. "Gellert Grindelwald was involved, wasn't he?"

She nodded and looked at Harry with a sad smile, "What your uncle once threatened to do to you... he once said that your magic was nothing a good beating couldn't fix, didn't he?"

Harry shuddered at the memory, but nodded.

"It wouldn't have worked." She looked off, towards the distance. "When I was younger, I had accidentally made myself hover a bit. Some boys saw me and demanded to know the trick. They did not find it amusing when I answered it was magic and when they realized I was serious, they got scared. Scared of the freak... and so they attacked me to make it stop."

Harry looked affronted at that, remembering his own childhood with those words, how he had been bullied and yelled at for anything strange occurring...

"I was scared of my magic after that. Scared others would attack me. And I hated my magic. I didn't want it. So I locked it away." Her voice was gentle, quiet. "Well... I tried to. The problem is that magic doesn't just go away because you don't like it. I had no control over it. It would just explode out of me at random times and I couldn't control it."

"I don't think Uncle Vernon would have liked that," Harry murmured, imagining all too easily what his life at the Dursleys would have been like with that as a problem.

"Probably not," Ariana agreed. "My family didn't want me to be in the hospital all my life. Father ended up in prison and we moved to Godric's Hollow. I liked being with Aberforth best. He didn't mind that I was different. To him, I was just his little sister. I know we shouldn't have favorite siblings, but Albus was always so busy... always had his head buried in a book or experiment... and mother was always busy hiding everything from any prying eyes that I believe she was overly stressed. Aberforth didn't care about that. And one day I wanted to see him, badly, but he was away, at school. Mother raised her voice, shouting that I couldn't see him and I just... grew upset..." Ariana sighed.

"Upset?" Harry asked gently.

"My magic... exploded and it... it killed her," Ariana said quietly, looking down with shame. "And after that, I also managed to ruin Albus's life. Aberforth wanted to take care of me and I was so happy at the thought, but Albus said no. He stayed and took care of me and he didn't seem to mind... he even made a friend."

"Gellert Grindelwald," Harry said quietly. He looked at his parents while Ariana nodded. "I... I've written to him this summer. He's helped..."

"You have had to do a lot this summer, Harry," Lily said quietly. "He was a valuable resource. And as you have no doubt heard and realized for yourself, sometimes people can change."

Harry nodded, thinking of everything so far this summer that he had learned about his father, about his godfather, and Dudley's guardian and himself and even Percy... about everyone.

People could change. He had seen it himself. Percy wasn't just a prat to him anymore, he was a friend. Someone Harry would die for, like Ron and Hermione.

"So that was his friend," Harry said quietly.

"Aberforth didn't like him at all," Ariana said quietly. "He distracted Albus and made him forget his duties. And he was heavily into the dark arts."

"And you? Did you like him?" Harry inquired curiously.

Ariana mused for a few seconds, "I liked that he gave Albus hope. He made me feel less of a burden. And he wouldn't hide anything like my brothers did. When I irritated him, he would say it outright and get lectured for it but... I liked that." The girl looked up, "I liked that he treated me like he treated everyone else. That he treated me normal. Strange, isn't it? To like someone for not acting nice to you?"

"No," Harry said thoughtfully, remembering what he had read about his name being slandered and the like. "It's good to know someone's true views. To know they respect you enough to not lie to you. You know where you stand with them."

The girl smiled at him, "Exactly." She looked sad a moment as she glanced away before turning back. "You know what Gellert Grindelwald will be remembered for."

"Yes," Harry said. He knew the basics of Gellert's days as a Dark Lord. "But..." Harry looked down. "He hurt a lot of people, was probably no better than Voldemort, but he fought to protect me. I... It's strange."

Ariana nodded. "He and Albus were going to work together. All of their work would be 'for the greater good.'" Her face looked so very sad at this.

Harry looked up quickly, but found that this knowledge did not surprise him very much. "Aberforth told me that he was the only man that the Headmaster ever loved..."

"Yes," Ariana said quietly. "Aberforth protested this, of course, saying I could not travel with them in my state and it led to a three-way duel. And that... during that duel... I went to stop it, tried to, and I died." She looked at Harry, her bright blue eyes identical to both of her brothers'. "They all blamed themselves. Even Gellert. He did not like me very much for the burden he felt me to be on Albus, but he had not wanted me dead."

Silence reigned for a few moments as Harry absorbed this knowledge before he whispered quietly, "Who fired the spell that did it?"

"... I did," Ariana said gently, earning a very surprised look from Harry and she elaborated. "Rather, my magic did. The accident unleashed too much power. For being intelligent, those boys did not think very much. Aberforth and Gellert's spells were aimed at the other. Besides the one Cruciactus he had used on Aberforth, none of the three were using spells that would kill. Stunning spells, other dueling spells, yes, but nothing to kill. Gellert wanted Albus to go with him, after all, not hate him. Killing his siblings would not be the right way to handle the situation."

"True," Harry murmured gently. "Very true..."

He sat with his parents and Ariana Dumbledore for a bit, enjoying their presence for a while longer before the other thought occurred to him. "... Mum?"

She looked at him.

"Were... were you really friends with Snape?"

Lily smiled sadly, "Yes. We were best friends until Hogwarts. But his group of friends were just... evil. I loathed them. And we went our separate ways..." She looked down. "I should have been there. I should not have left him."

"Lily," James murmured quietly. "We all choose our own path."

"And I should not let him walk his alone," she said quietly. "He was my best friend. I loved him, James, as the brother I never had."

"I don't think his feelings for you were those of a brother," James murmured back quietly.

"He was just confused," Lily answered. "I do wish he would treat you better though, Harry. Yes, he has saved your life and helped you, but he does not have to lash out at his students while doing so." She sighed. "At least he still has Cal."

Harry nodded and looked towards his father, who blushed slightly. "Yes, Harry. I was an arrogant little berk. I am ashamed of it now. If I could undo the actions..."

"Blades's mum said people do foolish things when they're young," Harry said, remembering the woman's words. "You died for me, Dad. You and Mum. And I love you, no matter what. You and Mum weren't perfect, you were only human. That's all we all are. Only human going through life the same way, no answers but trying our best."

"Well said," Ariana said fondly, smiling at him.

Harry smiled back and it was silent for a long while, but the silence was soothing, comforting, and so the young man did not mind it.

"So I'm not dead," he said gently. "Why?"

"I believe the best explanation for that would be found if you went back," James said gently. "But it has to do with the bond you once had with Voldemort and the blood he used from you. He tethered you to himself, Harry and so gave you a way back to the living, if you wish to go back."

It was an interesting thought. "And if I don't go back?"

"Then I am sure you could go on," James answered softly.

"On?" Harry asked.

The three nodded and Harry stayed silent, thinking.

His friends... and his cousin... the people he loved, they were all still in the land of the living. Yes, he loved his parents, but there were others now, so many others... and there was so much work to be done!

He couldn't stop the smile at that.

"I think," Harry said quietly. "I still have quite some time before I will join you all for good."

Proud smiles from his parents and Ariana. Lily gently cupped his face, "It will not be easy, you know... changing things."

"I know," Harry answered. "But we have to try."

"My brave boy," Lily whispered, kissing his cheek lightly.

James hugged him tightly. "Tell Moony and Padfoot that I want them to hurry up and have cubs and pups to join my little Prongslet!"

"Dad, I can't just tell them that!" Harry yelped, bright red at the thought of telling his former teacher and his godfather to go have kids. James laughed and hugged him once more.

Ariana stood and gently took both of Harry's hands. "Pretty boy."

"Why do you call me that?" Harry inquired curiously, having wondered since she first said it.

A devious smile, similar to Dumbledore's grins when he would walk around the school humming to himself, and she said, "Well, you go to salons and use pretty disguises. Does that not make you a pretty boy?"

Harry groaned as his parents laughed, "Why did I ask..."

Ariana smiled at him and gently squeezed his hands, "Be happy, Harry Potter, Light Porter, Pretty Boy-Who-Lived... You and my brothers too. Everyone who we loved and still do love, show them death is not the end. We who are dead do not need the pity or tears. The living need that. But more than that.. they need hope and joy, and that is why the old words say it best: to be of good cheer."

Harry nodded, letting go of her hands and the young man looked at them intently, "Is this all... real? Or just in my head from whatever Voldemort did?"

"Just because it's in your head doesn't make it any less real, son," James said warmly, smiling at him.

"We love you, son," Lily said, as James nodded fervently.

"Get rid of that starfish for good," he said to Harry.

"Starfish?" Harry asked, blinking while Lily sighed and shook her head. Harry noticed she was smiling though.

"They can be cut up into smaller pieces and each piece can grow back what it is missing," James explained. "Like Voldemort seems to. But you'll stop him. For good. No more Voldemort the Starfish." James nodded quite seriously and held his wife while Harry tried not to laugh at the mental image of a starfish Voldemort.

"Take care, Harry," Ariana said, looking at him and gently touching his chest, almost zapping it. Harry blinked and stared at her and she touched him again... and again... Harry squinted. His vision was blurring. What was she doing? All he could see was her bright blue eyes and King's Cross was fading...

What was happening?

"Harry?"

Where was he? What was poking him in the chest? Was it Ariana? He could still see her blue eyes...

"Harry... Harry... Harry!" a voice was shouting his name, shaking him and tapping his chest with a wand. Harry blearily opened his eyes to see Percy kneeling over him, his blue eyes boring into Harry's.

"P-Percy?" Harry managed, blinking a few times.

"Oh thank Merlin," Percy whispered, grabbing him and yanking him close in a hug.

Harry looked around. He was back at Godric's Hollow, lying on the ground. There were Regulators and Aurors and lots of people around. Amelia and Rufus were keeping people away from Percy and Harry.

"Light!" Dudley's voice and Harry looked over, his cousin and Callahan running towards him.

"What?" Rufus yelped, turning with obvious astonishment. "He's _alive?!"_

Harry nodded, wondering when all of them had arrived, and he looked around. There. Voldemort was waking up too, but he was bound by Regulators and Aurors. Harry continued looking around.

"You all right?" Gellert's voice inquired from near him and Harry turned to see him with Bathilda. "This is yours, I believe," the man continued, handing Harry's wand back to him. "Though you don't exactly need it..." This was said with a slight smirk in Dumbledore's direction.

Said man was staring at Harry as if he had never seen him before.

"Harry?" It was said quietly, and Harry had a slightly sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Dumbledore had finally figured it out.

Telling him everything would have to come later, though... especially since wands were now all being pointed in his direction. "What...?"

"Gellert Grindelwald!" Whispers from the Aurors and Regulators and the older man rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, don't you have Voldemort to take care of?" The older man protested, standing easily and pointing at the other man. "Goodness... idiots, wasting your resources like that."

"How did you escape Nurmengard!?" A Regulator asked, all wands still pointing at the former Dark Lord.

"_Really?_" Gellert sighed dramatically, giving everyone a look that clearly stated he thought they were idiots. "You're _really _asking me how I escaped a prison _that I designed?"_

Silence echoed following those words and uneasy looks were shared at the rather logical question.

Dumbledore's voice was soft, low. "Then why did you leave? Why now?"

Harry watched Gellert turn and wondered what the two once-friends were thinking as they looked at each other. Gellert stayed silent a few moments. "I didn't have a reason to before." He glanced at Harry, "Not until someone... showed me the light, shall we say?"

A small smile found its way to Harry's face as Gellert gave him a smile before looking back at Dumbledore, who did not seem amused. "And how did you escape-and do not give the spiel about having designed the prison."

"_Fine,_" Gellert replied, rolling his eyes. "Observe. All of you-watch very closely. Nothing up my sleeves..." The man looked around and then he was gone!

Yelps rang out until Harry noticed a bird sitting where Gellert had stood. A familiar bird.

"Ariel!" Harry said, blinking at the bird who chirped at him.

"An animagus?" The Regulators murmured quietly and Dumbledore frowned. A few moments passed before Ariel vanished, replaced by Gellert Grindelwald.

"And I'm even registered," the man said dryly before anyone could comment. "Now can we please focus on the noseless one there? He really gives our kind a bad name." Gellert wrinkled his nose as he looked at Voldemort.

The Regulators and Aurors were still pointing wands at Gellert, obviously unsure about what to do.

Harry looked at Dudley and Callahan, who were helping him up. He stood and looked around, worried. He liked Gellert, there he had admitted it. Yes, he had been a dark lord, but he was helping to stop another one, and Harry's letters proved it.

There had to be something he could do to satisfy everyone, to ensure justice would be served, but _what_?

His eyes roamed around briefly. Voldemort still captured. Gellert with wands pointed at him. Dumbledore...

Wait...

Harry perked up, as something occurred to him.

"I-I have an idea," he said loudly, making everyone look over at him.

The boy was a bit stunned, truth be told. He was still in school, wasn't even of age yet, and... and yet, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Minister of Magic, alchemists and others, Regulators and Aurors and others...

All of them had stopped what they were doing to listen to him.

It was humbling and still a bit surprising to Harry, but he took a deep breath and began to speak.


	18. Chapter 18

"_Speakers who talk about what life has taught them never fail to keep the attention of their listeners."_

~Dale Carnegie

* * *

**18.**

"We do not have the resources to watch both of these men," Harry said, indicating Gellert and Voldemort. He could remember what his parents and Ariana had said, to be of good cheer.

To be _happy_. For _all_ of them to be happy.

So Harry was going to try to honor that. Even for Dumbledore. The man made mistakes and well, after having worked so closely with so many people, Harry could see that the poor headmaster was a somewhat Machiavellian figure.

Albus Dumbledore had always been so calm and stoic, but Harry knew he was also prone to secrecy, despite some of the people around him having proven themselves to be deserving of his trust. But did Harry think the man cruel?

No.

Dumbledore was simply too far-sighted. He saw the big picture, he saw the entire forest, and his choices tended to show that.

Harry didn't see the whole forest. He saw a single tree. He wasn't Albus Dumbledore, even though these people now were listening to him, even though he had an idea. Harry couldn't run an entire secret organization like Dumbledore did, since he relied too much on others. Harry was a Seeker. He noticed details. He worked with meticulous precision and his friends helped with that.

Who had the right of it? Harry didn't know. But he did know that he was going to try his best to make things work out for everyone. Starting now. He swallowed hard, hoping this idea would work, that it were possible... "Given that and the fact that it's obvious that one can escape, I think maybe we can... can maybe bond Grindelwald to someone so he can't go too far from the person or anything. Someone powerful and trustworthy, so that we don't have to worry about him and we can focus on Voldemort's imprisonment. Is there a way to do that?"

"Bond his magic to a person?" Callahan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry nodded.

"He's too powerful for most of us..." A Regulator admitted, but Harry was pleasantly surprised that everyone seemed to be considering the idea.

His eyes flickered over to Dumbledore.

Aberforth had said Gellert Grindelwald was the only man that his brother had ever loved. And Harry knew Dumbledore had beaten Gellert in the duel...

The Headmaster was looking at Harry now, practically studying him. What was he thinking? Harry didn't know.

"Yes," the old man said slowly, making everyone look over at him. "Yes, there is a way to do what you said, Mr. Porter."

"... Would you do it?" asked Harry bluntly. "You're the only one here capable of it."

"I don't even get a say?" Gellert protested, giving a slight pout as he did.

"No, now shush," Harry said, making the older wizard laugh before he turned to look at Dumbledore as well, the laugh now silent as the two old friends looked at each other.

Harry felt odd as he watched the two stare at each other. He could remember when Dumbledore had stopped Barty Crouch Jr. from attacking him, the energy that had seemed to surround the man. It felt similar now, but it wasn't from fury or the like. It was just completely and utterly _Dumbledore._ He was a powerful wizard, looking at someone just as powerful and intelligent. Harry didn't have to look at Gellert to know that it would be the same.

"Yes," said Dumbledore slowly, finally looking away from Gellert to look at Harry. "Yes, I would. Though there are affairs to be put into order before I do."

"Such as?" A Regulator inquired.

"I will have to step down as Headmaster of Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained, but to Harry's surprise, the man did not seem too saddened by this, judging by the glance he briefly gave Gellert before continuing. "Professor Minerva McGonagall will be taking over as Headmistress once I do. Being bonded means we cannot be too far away from the other and with so many students..."

Percy nodded, "That makes sense. Will you be stepping down from the Wizengamot as well?"

"I do believe so," Dumbledore stated, as he glanced around, eyes pausing briefly to rest on Harry. They weren't the cold eyes that Harry was used to seeing while he was disguised. They were the normal light blue eyes that seemed to twinkle right now as he looked around with a slight smile.

But it made sense, didn't it? Harry realized it; with Voldemort no longer a problem, Dumbledore could finally rest. He wasn't getting any younger, after all. With Professor McGonagall taking over Hogwarts... with Percy, a good Minister, in power...

Harry had just given Dumbledore the excuse to finally relax with someone that the old Headmaster had probably thought would never leave prison. And despite the supposed protest, a glance at Gellert showed that the man didn't really mind.

The Regulators murmured to each other but Harry could see they were nodding. "Makes sense," one muttered. "Don't want him getting out whenever he wants..."

More nods followed that statement and some of them turned to look at Harry. "Good idea, kid," one said. "Sure you don't want to join the ICW when you're of age?"

"Oy!" Percy protested. "We need him here!"

Harry just laughed, shaking his head. "What now?"

Everyone peered at the Minister of Magic, who ran a hand through his fiery red hair. "Well, first thing would be to get Voldemort put into prison."

Murmurs of agreement and Voldemort was quickly bound with things that had runes etched all over them. Harry suspected they were to negate his magic. He remember vague mentions of it in History class as a punishment, but he didn't really know the details. He tended to sleep whenever Binns spoke, after all.

As others discussed what to do with Voldemort, Harry leaned against Dudley, watching events unfold. Dumbledore seemed to be able to send messages using a patronus, because he had just sent one to McGonagall stating that he would be retiring.

A tabby cat patronus had quickly appeared, with McGonagall's voice demanding to know why and if he needed assistance. Dumbledore and her continued sending patronuses back and forth while Gellert conjured up a chair and sat comfortably, watching Dumbledore's casual use of the odd patronus spell with interest.

Harry turned to look while Callahan conjured up a chair for Bathilda too, helping her into it before looking over at Harry. "Okay you," he said sternly. "You are going to get some rest."

"But Cal-!" He protested.

"No buts!" The Alchemist gave Harry such a stern look that he wondered if the man was channeling Snape.

Harry tried to give him a pleading look, but Dudley just laughed. "Light," he warned, "it won't work. He's seen every trick in the book."

"Not fair," grumbled Harry, walking with his cousin towards Bathilda's house.

As they walked away from the noise and activity, Harry spoke quietly, "What do you think is going to happen now?"

"Probably interrogations and all of that," his cousin replied. "Put You-er... V-Voldemort into Azkaban. And Percy's been busy enough even without that right?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Harry, sighing. "But I meant what's going to happen you know, to us now."

"You'll probably be able to return to Hogwarts," Dudley said, giving a curious look. "... What is it?"

Harry sighed, looking over the slightly wrecked house. "I... I like being... Light. I think I like being him more than Harry Potter. I know I'm the same person and it's stupid. But in disguise... I'm judged for _me._ Everything is for _me._ And... and that's not how it is without the disguise. How am I supposed to tell everyone that I'm... you know... both? That I'm Harry Potter and Light Porter?"

"You're the bravest guy I know," Dudley said, his eyes meeting Harry's. He meant it, Harry could see it. He tried to shake his head but Dudley didn't relent, "No, listen to me. You are. You did a bunch of stuff and dealt with slander and... you could have left any time. Could have just said this wasn't your problem. But you didn't. It won't be easy and people might complain a bit, but it'll blow over, just like my taking over the Umbra Pack did."

"I guess..." Harry still didn't really feel reassured, but he walked into the small house and sat down. "I'm just not looking forward to it. Everyone lecturing me or something..." He sighed. "Dumbledore probably will have a field day lecturing me too..."

"What for?" Dudley smiled, "Harry, little cousin... listen to me. What more can anyone ask of you? I mean, come on, seriously, what more? You want everyone to be happy but you never stop to think about your own happiness."

"I'll be happy if everyone I love is happy," Harry mumbled, knowing Dudley was listening. He sighed and looked up at Dudley, "I know that's impossible though."

"I don't think so," said Dudley quietly. "I'd say if anyone could accomplish that, it's you. But there is one flaw in your cunning plan to make everyone happy."

Harry blinked curiously, "What?"

"For us to be happy, you need to be too."

It made Harry think. A cycle... everything came back to it. To helping each other, the best they could. It wasn't much, what one person did... but they protected their loved ones. And in turn those they protected did the same.

Some of what Dumbledore said about bonds of trust and friendship stuck in his mind a bit and Harry smiled. Everyone knew the truth of those words even if they expressed it in different ways. But it made Harry curious as to what happened when those bonds grew.

What happened when there were so many bonds? Did it spread? Could it grow? Grow and expand until people like Voldemort never could stand a chance? Or was that one thing that did allow it? Those bonds that led people to protect their loved ones even as they went into the dark?

Because Harry knew dark wizards _could_ care about other people. He had seen it first hand. People were so in depth, so flexible and ever changing that he wondered if analyzing things from one aspect would ever really work.

But he also knew trying his best would work too. He sighed. They still had a lot of work ahead. There were Death Eaters to catch, laws to change, so much to do and even with Voldemort captured and going to prison, Harry was sure the wizard had more of those sick soul things...

He yawned, tired.

There was still much to do before they could enjoy the peace. He still had magic to learn; this was even his O.W.L. year! He had almost forgotten that with everything going on.

Harry smiled and muttered a repair charm on the walls Voldemort had blasted. Right now, even with all those concerns, he was just thinking about a nap and wondering if afterwards he could have a sandwich.

With those thoughts in his head, the boy told Dudley he was going to take a nap and he walked to the sofa and did just that.


	19. Chapter 19

_Step with care and great tact_

_and remember that Life's_

_a Great Balancing Act._

_Just never forget to be dexterous and deft._

_And never mix up your right foot with your left._

_And will you succeed?_

_Yes! You will, indeed!_

_(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)_

_KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!_

~Dr. Seuss

* * *

**19.**

The weeks after the capture of the Dark Lord Voldemort passed in a flurry of activity for not only Harry, but for the magical world in general.

Albus Dumbledore had stepped down from many of his posts and was living in Godric's Hollow now. Gellert was with him, though he had the magical equivalent of a house arrest ankle monitor on him that would activate when he got too far from Dumbledore. Harry was often too busy to stop by, though the two, from what he heard, were frequent visitors to Bathilda's house.

There were loads more of elected seats on the Wizengamot now due to the election and Harry was very pleased when he saw that people had elected other beings onto the lawmaking government council as well. Ragnok was quite proud to be the first goblin on it, as well as the first goblin to have generations under him attending Hogwarts.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall felt that it was only responsible to allow all beings that would have wands attend the school and with her public declaration having such huge support, the Board of Governors didn't dare protest. Professor Severus Snape, after Dumbledore had stepped down, had politely asked to do the same, and so someone named Horace Slughorn had replaced him.

To his surprise, Harry saw a lot more of Snape though; the man spent much of his time helping Callahan or in research. The man tended to avoid him though, and Harry knew why; someone, presumably Dumbledore, had told Snape who he really was.

He had been expecting some kind of outburst like the one that had happened when he and Hermione had set Sirius free in his third year, but surprisingly, none of that had occurred. The man was polite whenever they spoke. Harry wondered if anyone had spoken to Snape about his attitude or if it was simply an issue of no longer having the stress of a job he hated and the regrets of his past staring at him all the time.

Harry, however, could not retire from school as Dumbledore and Snape had. For now he was still doing all of his lessons with Callahan though there were talks of his returning to Hogwarts for the second half of the school year. Though the man was an Alchemist, Harry enjoyed learning all of his subjects. Callahan was _far_ better at teaching History than Binns, even using illusion spells, which, unlike a pensieve that allowed one to just view a memory, allowed one to take place in the event.

Giant wars would never be boring to Harry again. Though he had learned that "Jack and the Beanstalk" was a legend that had been distorted many many many times over, but Jack the Giant Slayer was very real and a wizarding hero to quite a few towns.

Harry was also catching up with his Muggle education. Four years of only magical learning had taken its toll, and having seen first-hand how sometimes magic wasn't the answer for things like the land where the Werewolf Settlement was, Harry was determined to make up for it.

Unfortunately, this was quite headache inducing. Thankfully his cousin and friends were there to help him; his letters had supposedly made Hermione shriek in horror at how much she had forgotten as well. She had gotten her parents to sign her up for correspondence courses to catch up and Harry had been inspired to do the same.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do in the future, but at least he'd have more options with an educational background in both worlds. Callahan's potions methods had shown Harry that mixing the two worlds could sometimes make things beneficial for anyone involved.

The goblins were, with Percy's approval, also having much fun with that now. They, working with Arthur Weasley who had become the Head of the new "Magical Technologies" department were working on making more things like magically expanded cars and trying to make overhead projectors and the like work so that students wouldn't have to be up at midnight to look at the stars.

And, well, lots of Muggle-raised people missed video games. It would be a good way to keep people occupied and Alastor had, after seeing some of the games out in the Muggle world, had Scrimgeour excited to think of the possibilities of using them for Auror training purposes.

Madam Bones had just rolled her eyes and asked if they would ever grow up.

Everyone laughed when the two had simultaneously replied no quite loudly.

With the changes going on, insane as it sounded, Percy was making sure he did his paperwork for a few hours a day. Harry helped him of course; the two relied on time turners to have enough hours in the day to not only help the others, but to also do this. And finally, on a day in early December, they did it.

They had defeated the decades worth of paperwork.

The two had cheered before sobbing when Madam Bones had brought in more regarding his approval for her actions, which were getting the ICW's help in giving everyone who had been in holding cells trials.

Percy had approved of course, also allowing for them to use mostly any means to interrogate their prisoners and the people getting trials. Mostly any, but he did not allow the Unforgivable Curses to be used, nor did he allow torture.

Due to this, with a mixture of questions, Veritaserum and in some cases simple threats like removing all of a family's assets, they were able to learn far more about Voldemort's past and those sickening horcruxes.

Ginny and Ron, in a letter to Harry and Percy, had mentioned they would get the remains of the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry grinned, remembering how they had found the horcrux at Hogwarts. Fred and George had had the idea of asking the house elves for help, though the twins had been sure to tell them that it was a very dark and dangerous object.

The house elves had quickly gone through the school, Harry suspecting they used their brand of magic to detect the more dangerous, illegal objects. Not only had they presented the twins with a diadem, but they had also had found a book that cursed someone to be unable to stop reading, robes that attempted to kill the wearer, and a quill that would change into a sharp object and try to possess the holder.

Needless to say, all of the objects, including the horcrux in the school, had been destroyed. And, due to the discovery that basilisk parts fetched a high price, Hogwarts was able to get extra funds, and Gringotts was able to obtain more venom for their stock. Ragnok informed them that they liked keeping the venom around for some particularly nasty curses.

And so, with the help of his friends that were more like family by now, Harry could truthfully say that all of Voldemort's horcruxes were destroyed. Though he had to admit, it explained why the man was so insane and unstable. The former Dark Lord spent his days in solitary confinement in Azkaban swearing revenge against them and saying how they would regret this.

Harry seriously doubted that. He was glad the man had to suffer in Azkaban; death would have been too easy for Voldemort. He wanted justice and everyone seeing that Voldemort was only human, just a man like any other, subject to the laws of the magical world showed that. It was the best revenge: showing everyone that Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn't special after all.

It was strange though, Harry had to admit. Ever since he had learned of the magical world, people had spoken of 'You-Know-Who' with fear and had looked towards Harry whenever things regarding him arose. And when the boy of his mother and his father... when Harry thought of Cedric Diggory...

When he thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done, a flame had always seemed to leap inside his chest and sear his throat. He had wanted Voldemort finished, defeated, and now it was done. He had wanted the slander to stop, and it had.

Now what did he want?

Harry thought for a moment and he knew.

He wanted a normal life. A life that was his, without relatives to loathe him-which he had now. He had always wanted a family that cared for him and he had it. He had his godfather and his guardian and a cousin who loved him.

But more than that, a normal life was only worth having if they had a world worth living in.

And now... now it seemed they had that opportunity. Now the wizarding world wasn't led by stuffy old people clinging to traditions with no sense or only caring about bloodlines. Oh, Harry was sure there was still going to be opposition and disagreements and the like; it was the way of the world. But he felt they could make a difference now; he felt that they had shown their leaders had to be just, that violence would not be tolerated. People were being held accountable.

It would not be easy; Harry suspected that much. Centuries couldn't be changed overnight. But he had an entire lifetime ahead of him now. A life free of Voldemort, a huge burden off his shoulders that he had never asked for or wanted, but had taken care of nonetheless.

The magical world was free to move forward, and so was Harry.

And the bigger picture he saw, the one of a life spent shaping a world he wanted the future to inherit... he liked it. It was a life worth having, of that Harry was sure.

But the big picture didn't stop the small one either; Harry had finally decided to end the talks and act. After Christmas, he would return to Hogwarts, finish his education proper and from there...

Well, as Hagrid had once said, what would come, would come… and he would meet it when it did.

* * *

_**A.N: Thank you everyone for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! **_

_**And I would really like to thank my awesome, best beta reader ever omega13a for all of the patience and tons of help and reminders to write! :D**_

**_And once more, special thanks for everyone who reviewed! I 3 you all! So much so that I'd better hop to the next story just in case any of you are reading it too! Laters!_**


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